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FOOTFALLS 


Boundary  of  Another  World. 


WITH  NAEEATIVE  ILLUSTRATIONS. 


ROBERT  DALE  OWEF. 

rORUERLY  HBMBER   OF   COXORESS,   AND    AllXRlUAlf  UltflSTZR  TO   WAPLKl. 


"  As  It  is  the  peculiar  method  of  the  Academy  to  interpose  no  personal  judgment, 
but  to  admit  those  opinions  which  appear  most  probable,  to  compare  arguments,  and 
to  set  forth  all  that  may  be  reasonably  stated  in  favor  of  each  proposition,  and  so, 
without  obtruding  any  authority  of  its  own,  to  leave  the  judgment  of  the  hearers  free 
•I'd  unprejudiced,  we  will  retain  this  custom  which  has  been  handed  down  from 
Socrates;  and  this  method,  dear  brother  Quintus,  if  you  please,  we  will  adopt,  as  often 
as  possible,  in  all  our  dialogues  together." — CicsRO  de  Divin.  Lib.  iL  ^72. 


PHILADELPHIA: 

J.   B    LIPPINCOTT  &  CO. 

18T2. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1859,  by 

T,  B   LIPPINCOTT  &  CO. 

In  the  Clerk's  UAce  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the  Eastern 

listrict  of  Pennsj'lvania. 


PREFACK 


It  may  intereet  the  reader,  before  perusing  this  volume,  to 
know  some  of  the  circumstances  which  preceded  and  pro- 
duced it. 

The  subjects  of  which  it  treats  came  originally  under  my 
xiotice  in  a  land  where,  except  to  the  privileged  foreigner,  such 
subjects  are  interdicted, — at  Naples,  in  the  autumn  of  1855. 
Lp  to  that  period  I  had  regarded  the  whole  as  a  delusion 
which  no  prejudice,  indeed,  would  have  prevented  my  exa- 
mming  with  care,  but  in  which,  lacking  such  examination,  I 
had  no  faith  whatever. 

To  an  excellent  friend  and  former  colleague,  the  Viscount 
de  at.  Amaro,  Brazilian  Minister  at  Naples,  I  shall  ever  remain 
debtor  for  having  first  won  my  serious  attention  to  phenomena 
of  a  magneto-psychological  character  and  to  the  study  of  ana- 
logous subjects.  It  was  in  his  apartments,  on  the  4th  of  March, 
1856,  and  in  presence  of  himself  and  his  lady,  together  with  a 
member  of  the  royal  family  of  Naples,  that  I  witnessed  for  the 
first  time,  with  mingled  feelings  of  surprise  and  incredulity, 
certain  physical  movements  apparently  without  material 
agency.  Three  weeks  later,  during  an  evening  at  the  Russian 
Minister's,  an  incident  occurred,  as  we  say,  fortuitously,  which, 
after  the  strictest  scrutiny,  I  found  myself  unable  to  explain 
without  referring  it  to  some  intelligent  agency  foreign  to  the 
spectators  present, — not  one  of  whom,  it  may  be  added,  knew 
or  had  practiced  any  thing  connected  with  what  is  called  Spi- 
ritualism or  mediumship.  From  that  day  I  determined  to  test 
the  matter  thoroughly.  My  public  duties  left  me,  in  winter, 
few  leisure  hours,  but  many  during  the  summer  and  autumn 
months ;  and  that  leisure,  throughout  more  than  two  years,  I 
devoted  to  an  investigation  (conducted  partly  by  personal  oh- 


4  PRErACE. 

Bervations  made  in  domestic  privacy,  partly  by  means  of  books) 
of  the  great  question  whether  agencies  from  another  phase  of 
existence  ever  intervene  here,  and  operate,  for  good  or  evil,  on 
mankind. 

For  a  time  the  observations  I  made  were  similar  to  those 
which  during  the  last  ten  years  so  many  thousands  have  insti- 
tuted in  our  country  and  in  Europe,  and  my  reading  was 
restricted  to  works  for  and  against  Animal  Magnetism  and 
for  and  against  the  modern  Spiritual  theory.  But,  as  the  field 
opened  before  me,  I  found  it  expedient  to  enlarge  my  sphere 
of  research, — to  consult  the  best  professional  works  on  Phy- 
siology, especially  in  its  connection  with  mental  phenomena, 
on  Psychology  in  general,  on  Sleep,  on  Hallucination,  on 
Insanity,  on  the  great  Mental  Epidemics  of  Europe  and 
America,  together  with  treatises  on  the  Imponderables, — in- 
cluding Keichenbach's  curious  observations,  and  the  records 
of  interesting  researches  recently  made  in  Prussia,  in  Italy,  in 
England  and  elsewhere,  on  the  subject  of  Human  Electricity 
in  connection  with  its  influence  on  the  nervous  system  and 
the  muscular  tissues. 

I  collected,  too,  the  most  noted  old  works  containing  nar- 
rative collections  of  apparitions,  hauntings,  presentiments,  and 
the  like,  accompanied  by  dissertations  on  the  Invisible  World, 
and  toiled  through  formidable  piles  of  chaff  to  reach  a  few 
gleanings  of  sound  grain. 

Gradually  I  became  convinced  that  what  by  many  have  been 
regarded  as  new  and  unexampled  phenomena  are  but  modern 
phases  of  what  has  ever  existed.  And  I  ultimately  reached  the 
conclusion  that,  in  order  to  a  proper  understanding  of  much 
that  has  excited  and  perplexed  the  public  mind  under  the  name 
of  Spiritual  Manifestations,  historical  research  should  precede 
every  other  inquiry, — that  we  ought  to  look  throughout  the 
past  for  classes  of  phenomena,  and  seek  to  arrange  these,  each 
in  its  proper  niche. 

I  was  finally  satisfied,  also,  that  it  behooved  the  student  in 
this  field  (in  the  first  instance,  at  least)  to  devote  his  attention 
to  spontaneous  phenomena,  rather  than  to  those  that  are 
evoked, — to  appearances  and  disturbances  that  present  them- 
selves occasionally  only,  it  is  true,  but  neither  sought  nor 
looked  for ;  like  the  rainbow,  or  the  Aurora  Borealis,  or  the 


wind  that  bloweth  where  it  listeth,  uncontrolled  by  the  wishe* 
or  the  agency  of  man.  By  restricting  the  inquiry  to  these,  all 
suspicion  of  being  misled  by  epidemic  excitement  or  ex- 
pectant attention  is  completely  set  aside. 

A  record  of  such  phenomena,  carefully  selected  and  authen- 
ticated, constitutes  the  staple  of  the  present  volume.  In 
putting  it  forth,  I  am  not  to  be  held,  any  more  than  is  the  nar- 
turalist  or  the  astronomer,  to  the  imputation  of  tampering  with 
holy  things.  As  regards  the  special  purpose  of  this  work,  no 
charge  of  necromantic  efforts  or  unlawful  seeking  need  be 
met,  since  it  cannot  possibly  apply.  The  accusation,  if  any  be 
brought,  will  be  of  a  different  character.  If  suspicion  I  incur, 
it  will  be  not  of  sorcery,  but  of  superstition, — of  an  endeavor, 
perhaps,  to  revive  popular  delusions  which  the  lights  of 
modern  science  have  long  since  dispelled,  or  of  stooping  to 
put  forth  as  grave  relations  of  fact  what  are  no  better  than 
idle  nursery-tales. 

Accepting  this  issue,  I  am  content  to  put  myself  on  the 
country.  I  demand  a  fair  trial  before  a  jury  who  have  not 
prejudged  the  cause.  I  ask  for  my  witnesses  a  patient  hearing, 
well  assured  that  the  final  verdict,  be  it  as  it  may,  will  be  in 
accordance  with  reason  and  justice. 

I  aspire  not  to  build  up  a  theory.  I  doubt,  as  to  this  subject, 
whether  any  man  living  is  yet  prepared  to  do  so.  My  less 
ambitious  endeavor  is  to  collect  together  solid,  reliable  build- 
ing-stones which  may  serve  some  future  architect.  Already 
beyond  middle  age,  it  is  not  likely  that  I  shall  continue  here 
long  enough  to  see  the  edifice  erected.  But  others  may.  The 
race  endures,  though  the  individual  pass  to  another  stage  of 
existence. 

If  I  did  not  esteem  my  subject  one  of  vast  importance,  I 
should  be  unworthy  to  approach  its  treatment.  Had  I  found 
other  writers  bestowing  upon  it  the  attention  which  that  im- 
portance merits,  I  should  have  remained  silent.  As  it  is,  I 
have  felt,  with  a  modern  author,  that  'the  withholding  of 
large  truths  from  the  world  may  be  a  betrayal  of  the  greatest 
trust.''* 

I  am  conscious,  on  the  other  hand,  that  one  is  ever  apt  to 


"Friend*  in  Council,"  Art.  Truth. 
I* 


oyercElimate  the  importance  of  one's  own  labors.  Yet  even 
an  effort  such  as  this  may  suffice  to  give  public  opinion  a  true 
or  a  false  direction.  Great  results  are  sometimes  determined 
by  humble  agencies.  "A  ridge-tile  of  a  cottage  in  Derbyshire," 
says  Gisborne,  "decides  whether  the  rain  which  falls  from 
heaven  shall  be  directed  to  the  German  Ocean  or  the  Atlantic." 
Let  the  reader,  before  he  enters  on  the  inquiry  whether 
ultramundane  interference  be  a  great  reality  or  a  portentous 
delusion,  permit  me  one  additional  remark.  He  will  find  that, 
in  treating  that  hypothesis,  I  have  left  many  things  obscure 
and  uninterpreted.  Where  no  theory  was  clearly  indicated,  I 
preferred  to  state  the  facts  and  waive  all  explanation,  having 
reached  that  period  of  life  when,  if  good  use  has  been  made 
of  past  years,  one  is  not  ashamed  to  say,  "  I  do  not  know,"  in 
uny  case  in  which  that  is  the  simple  truth.  We  do  well,  how- 
ever, to  bear  in  mind  that  a  difficulty  unsolved  does  not 
amount  to  an  argument  in  opposition.* 

To  the  many  friends  whose  kindness  has  aided  my  under- 
taking, these  pages  owe  their  chief  value.  To  some  therein 
named  I  am  enabled  here  to  tender  my  grateful  acknowledg- 
ments. To  others  who  have  assisted  in  private  I  am  not  less 
deeply  indebted. 

I  doubt  not  that  if  I  were  to  delay  the  publication  of  this 
book  for  some  years  I  should  find  much  to  modify,  some- 
thing to  retract.  But  if,  in  this  world,  we  postpone  our  work 
till  we  deem  it  perfect,  death  comes  upon  us  in  our  hesitation, 
and  we  effect  nothing,  from  bootless  anxiety  to  effect  too  «iuch. 

R.  D.  0. 

*^*  On  page  511  will  be  found  "Addenda  to  the  Tenth 
Thousand." 

•  "  Where  we  cannot  answer  all  objections,  we  are  bound,  in  reason  and  in 
candor,  to  adopt  the  hypothesis  which  labors  under  the  least." — "  ElemenU 
of  Logic,"  by  Archbishop  Whately. 

"That  is  accounted  probable  which  has  better  argument  producibld  fof 
U  than  oan  be  brought  against  it" — South. 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS. 


Preface 3 

List  of  Adthoes  Cited 13 

BOOK  I. 

PRELIMINARY. 

CHAPTER  I. 
Statement  of  the  Subject 17 

Is  ultramundane  interference  reality,  or  delusion? — The  in- 
quiry practical,  but  hitherto  discouraged — Time  an  essential 
element — Isaac  Taylor — Jung  Stilling — Swedenborg — Ani- 
mal Magnetism — Arago's  opinion — Dr.  Carpenter's  admis- 
sions— The  American  epidemic — Phenomena  independent 
of  opinions — Sentiment  linked  to  action — The  home  on  the 
other  side — Hades — Johnson's,  Byron's,  Addison's,  and 
Steele's  opinions — Truth  in  every  rank — The  Ghost-Club^ 
Contempt  corrects  not — Spiritualism  an  influential  element 
— Dangers  of  over-credulity — Demoniac  manifestations — 
Reason  the  appointed  pilot — Duty  of  research — How  dispose 
of  spontaneous  phenomena? — Martin  Korky — Courage  and 
impartiality  demanded — A  besetting  temptation — Feeble  be- 
lief— Skepticism — Georget's  conversion — Evidence  of  sense 
— Some  truths  appeal  to  consciousness — Severe  test  applied 
to  the  subject  selected. 

CHAPTER  II. 
The  Impossible 60 

Columbus  in  Barcelona — The  marvel  of  marvels — Presumption 
— There  may  be  laws  not  yet  in  operation — Modern  study 
of  the  imponderables — Arago's  and  Cuvier's  admissions— 
What  may  be. 

CHAPTER  III. 

The  Miraculous 70 

Moiern  miracles  rejected — Hume — The  Indian  prince — Defi- 
nition of  a  miracle — Change-bearing  laws — Illustration  from 

r 


Babbage's  calculating  machine — That  which  has  been  may 
not  always  be—  An  error  of  two  phases — Alleged  miracles — 
Convulsionists  of  St.  M^dard — Spiritual  agency,  if  it  exist, 
not  miraculous — Butler's  and  Tillotson's  ideas  of  miracles. 

CHAPTER  IV. 
The  Improbable 92 

Two  modes  of  seeking  truth — Circulation  of  the  blood — Aero- 
lites— Rogers  the  poet,  and  La  Place  the  mathematician — 
Former  improbabilities — Argument  as  to  concurrence  in 
testimony — Love  of  the  marvelous  misleads — Haunted  houses 
— The  monks  of  Chantilly — Mental  epidemics  of  Europe — 
Modesty  enlists  confidence — One  success  not  disproved  by 
twenty  failures — Hallucination — Second-sight — Diagoras  at 
Samothrace — Faraday  on  table-moving — Consequences  of 
doubting  our  senses — Contending  probabilities  should  be 
weighed. 

BOOK  II. 

TOUCHING   CERTAIN   PHASES   OP   SLEEP. 

CHAPTER  I. 
Sleep  in  general 117 

A  familiar  marvel — An  inscrutable  world — Dreamless  sleep — 
Perquin's  observation — Does  the  soul  sleep? — A  personal 
observation — Phases  of  sleep  which  have  much  in  common 
— Sleeping  powers  occasionally  transcend  the  waking — 
Cabanis — Condorcet — Condillac — Gregory — Franklin — Legal 
opinion  written  out  in  sleep — Hypnotism — Carpenter's  ob- 
servations— Darwin's  theory  as  to  suspension  of  volition — 
Spiritual  and  mesmeric  phenomena  hypnotic — How  is  the 
nervous  reservoir  supplied  ? — The  cerebral  battery,  and  how 
it  may  possibly  be  charged — A  hypothesis. 

CHAPTER  II. 
Dreams 137 

Ancient  opinions — Dreams  and  insanity — Dreams  from  the 
ivory  gate — Fatal  credulity — Dreams  may  be  suggested  by 
slight  causes — Dreams  may  be  intentionally  suggested — 
An  ecstatic  vision — The  past  recalled  in  dream — Dreams 
verifying  themselves — The  locksmith's  apprentice — How 
ft  Paris  editor  obtained  his  wife — Death  of  Sir  Charles 
Lee's  daughter — Calphurnia — The  fishing-party — Signer  Ro- 


CONTENTg.  9 

mano's  story — Dreams  indicating  a  distant  death — Macnish's 
dream — A  shipwreck  foreshadowed — Dreams  involving 
double  coincidences — The  lover's  appearance  in  dream — 
Misleading  influence  of  a  romantic  incident — Alderman 
Clay's  dream — A  Glasgow  teller's  dream — The  Arrears  of 
Teind — The  same  error  may  result  in  skepticism  and  in 
superstition — William  Hewitt's  dream — Mary  Hewitt's  dream 
— The  murder  near  Wadebridge — The  two  field-mice — The 
Percival  murder  seen  in  dream — Dreams  may  disclose  trivial 
events — One  dream  the  counterpart  of  another — The  Joseph 
Wilkins  dream — A  miracle  without  a  motive  ? — The  Mary 
Goffe  case — The  Plymouth  Club  alarmed — We  must  take 
trouble,  if  we  will  get  at  truth — An  obscure  explanation — 
Representation  of  cerebral  action  ? — Prescience  in  dreams — 
Goethe's  grandfather — The  visit  foretold — The  Indian  mutiny 
foreshadowed — Bell  and  Stephenson — Murder  by  a  negro 
prevented — Inferences  from  this  case — Dreams  recorded  in 
Scripture — Are  all  dreams  untrustworthy? 

BOOK  III. 

DISTURBANCES   POPULARLY   TERMED   HAUNTINGS. 

CHAPTER  I. 
flEt  KKAL  Character  op  the  Phenomena 210 

ho  proof  of  gaudy  supernaturalism — A  startling  element  pre- 
sents Itself — Poltergeister — What  we  find,  not  what  we  may 
expect  to  find — Ancient  haunted  houses. 

CHAPTER  II. 
Narratives £'4 

Disturbances  at  Ted  worth — First  example  of  responding  of 
the  sounds — Glanvil's  observations — Mr.  Mompesson's  at 
testation — The  Wesley  disturbances — John  Wesley's  nar- 
rative— Emily  Wesley's  narrative,  and  her  experience  thirty- 
four  years  later — Opinions  of  Dr.  Clarke,  Dr.  Priestley, 
Southey,  and  Coleridge — The  New  Havensack  case — Mrs. 
Golding  and  her  maid — The  Castle  of  Slawensik — Disturb- 
ances in  Silesia — Dr.  Kemer's  inquiries — Councilor  Hahn's 
attestation — Twenty-five  years  after — Disturbances  in  the 
dwelling  of  the  Seeress  of  Prevorst — Displacement  of  house- 
rafters — The  law-suit — Disturbances  legally  attested — The 
flarm-house  of  Baldarroch — An  alleged  discovery — The  cre» 


\0  OGNTENIS. 

rAoa 

dulouuness  of  incredulity — Spicer's  narrative  of  a  four- 
year  disturbance — The  cemetery  of  Ahrensburg — Effects 
produced  on  animals — An  oflficial  investigation — Its  report 
— The  Cideville  parsonage — Disturbances  in  the  north  of 
France — Legal  depositions — Verdict  of  the  court — Additional 
proofs — The  Rochester  knockings — Disturbances  at  Hydes- 
ville — Kate  Fox — Allegations  of  the  sounds — Previous  dis- 
turbances in  the  same  house — Human  bones  found — Two 
peddlers  disappear — One  reappears — The  other  cannot  h^ 
traced — The  Stratford  disturbances. 

CHAPTER  III. 
Summing  up 300 

Character  of  the  testimony — Phenomena  long  continued,  and 
such  as  could  not  be  mere  imaginations — No  expectation  to 
influence — No  motive  for  simulation — Whither  ultra  skep- 
ticism leads — Did  Napoleon  Buonaparte  ever  exist  ? 

BOOK  lY. 

OP  APPEARANCES   COMMONLY   CALLED   APPARITIONS. 

CHAPTER  I. 
Touching  Hallucination 303 

Difficult  to  determine  what  is  hallucination — The  image  on  the 
retina — Opinions  of  Burdach,  Miiller,  Baillarger,  Decham- 
bre,  and  De  Boismont — Effects  of  imagination — Examples 
of  different  phases  of  hallucination — Illusion  and  hallu- 
cination— No  collective  hallucinations — Biological  experi- 
ments— Reichenbach's  observations — Exceptional  cases  of 
perception — The  deaf-mute  in  the  minority — Effect  of  medi- 
cine on  perceptions — Is  there  evidence  for  epidemical  halluci- 
nation?— De  Gasparin's  argument — The  fanciful  and  the  real. 

CHAPTER  II. 
Apparitions  op  the  Living 317 

Jung  Stilling's  story — Apparition  to  a  clergyman — Two  appa- 
ritions of  the  living  on  the  same  day — The  bride's  terror 
— Suggestion  as  to  rules  of,  evidence — The  Glasgow  sur- 
geon's assistant — Sight  and  sound — Apparition  of  the  living 
seen  by  mother  and  daughter — Was  this  hallucination? — 
Dr.  Donne's  wife — Apparition  at  sea — The  rescue — Appa- 
rition of  the  living  at  sea,  and  its  practical  result — The  ('ying 


OONTilfTft.  11 

mother  and  her  babe — Sleep  or  trance  not  an  indispen- 
sable condition — The  two  sisters — Apparition  of  two  livinjj 
persons,  they  themselves  being  among  the  eye-witnesaes 
— The  red  dress — Hasty  generalization  imprudent — The 
Tisionary  excursion — The  counterpart  appears  where  the 
thoughts  or  affections  are  ? 

CHAPTER  III. 
Apparitions  of  the  Dead 358 

The  spiritual  body — May  it  not  occasionally  show  itself? — 
A  question  not  to  be  settled  by  closet  theorists — Oberlin — 
His  belief  as  to  apparitions — Lorenzo  the  Magnificent  and 
the  Improvisatore — Mr.  Grose  and  the  skeptical  cardinal — 
Anna  Maria  Porter's  visitor — The  dead  body  and  the  boat- 
cloak — Apparition  in  India — An  atheist's  theory  examined 
— The  brother's  appearance  to  the  sister — Apparition  at  the 
moment  of  death — The  nobleman  and  his  servant — Appa- 
rition witnessed  by  two  independent  observers — Louise — The 
Wynyard  apparition,  with  corroborative  testimony — Appa- 
rition of  a  stranger — The  iron  stove — Glimpse  of  a  species 
of  future  punishment? — The  child's  bones  found — Is  there 
repentance  and  progress  beyond  the  tomb  ? — Opinion  of  one 
of  the  Christian  Fathers — The  debt  of  three-and-tenpence — 
Human  character  little  altered  by  the  death-change  ? — The 
stains  of  blood — The  victim  attracted  to  earth  ? — The  four- 
teenth of  November — Through  a  (so-called)  ghost  an  inac- 
curacy in  a  War-OflBce  certificate  is  corrected — The  old  Kent 
manor-house — The  Children  family — Correct  information 
regarding  them  obtained  through  an  apparition — The  author 
of  Robinson  Crusoe  in  a  dilemma — Hades. 

BOOK  V. 

INDICATIONS   OP  PERSONAL  INTERFEEENCES. 

CHAPTER  I. 
Retribution 431 

The  furies  of  the  ancients  not  implacable — Modern  examples 
of  what  seems  retribution — The  beautiful  quadroon  girl — 
Can  dreams  embody  requitals  ? — What  a  French  actress 
suffered — Annoyances  continued  throughout  two  years  and 
a  half — A  dying  threat  apparently  fulfilled — What  an  Eng- 
lish officer  suffered — Was  it  retribution  7 


12  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  II.  ,^ 

Guardianship. 452 

Ho\f  Senator  Linn's  life  was  saved — Was  it  clairvoyance,  or 
prescience  ? — Help  amid  the  snow-drifts — Unexpected  con- 
solation— Gaspar — The  rejected  suitor — Is  spiritual  guard- 
ianship an  unholy  or  incredible  hypothesis  ? 

BOOK  VI. 

THE   SUGGESTED    RESULTS. 

CHAPTER  I. 
Xhe  Change  at  Death 476 

A  theory  must  not  involve  absurd  results — Whence  can  the 
dead  return? — Character  but  slightly  changed  at  death — 
Spiritual  theory  involves  two  postulates — Hades  swept  out 
along  with  purgatory — How  the  matter  stands  historically 
— The  Grecian  Hades — The  Jewish  Sheol — What  becomes 
of  the  soul  immediately  after  death  ? — An  abrupt  meta- 
morphosis?— A  final  doom,  or  a  state  of  progress? — How 
human  character  is  formed  here — The  postulates  rational — 
What  has  resulted  from  discarding  Hades — Enfeebling  ef- 
fect of  distance — The  loss  of  identity — The  conception  of 
two  lives — Man  cannot  sympathize  with  that  for  which  he 
is  not  prepared — The  virtuous  reasonably  desire  and  expect 
another  stage  of  action — Human  instincts  too  little  studied 
— Man's  nature  and  his  situation — The  Ideal — The  utterings 
of  the  presaging  voice — Man  remains,  after  death,  a  human 
creature — Footfalls — A  master-influence  in  another  world — 
We  are  journeying  toward  a  land  of  love  and  truth — What 
death  is — What  obtains  the  rites  of  sepulture. 

CHAPTER  II. 
Conclusion 504 

Admissions  demanded  by  reason — The  invisible  and  inaudible 
world — We  may  expect  outlines  rather  than  filling  up — 
Man's  choice  becomes  his  judge — Pneumatology  of  the 
Bible — More  light  hereafter. 

Addenda  to  Tenth  Thousand 511 

Appendix  — Note  A.  Circular  of  the  Cambridge  Ghost-Club..  513 
Note  B.  Testimony :  View  taken  by  two  oppo- 
sing Schools 517 

Imdbx 621 


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2  IS 


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1859. 
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Humboldt,  Baron.    Cosmos. 

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Roman  Ritual. 

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Scott,  Sir  Walter.     Letters  on  Demonology  and  Witchcraft,  2d  ed.,  1857. 
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Spectator  for  July  6,  1711. 
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Stilling,  Jung.     Theorie  der  Geisterkunde,  1809. 
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Strauss.     Life  of  Jesus. 

Taylor,  Isaac.     Physical  Theory  of  Another  Life,  London,  1839. 
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FOOTFALLS 

ON  TBI 

BOUNDARY  OF  ANOTHER  WORLD. 


BOOK  I. 

PRELIMINARY. 
CHAPTER  I. 

STATEMENT  OP  THE  SUBJECT. 

"As  I  did  ever  hold,  there  mought  be  as  great  a  vanitie  in  retiring 
and  withdrawing  men's  conceites  (except  they  bee  of  some  nature)  from 
the  world  as  in  obtruding  them ;  so,  in  these  particulars,  I  have  played 
myself  the  Inquisitor,  and  find  nothing  to  my  understanding  in  them  con- 
trarie  or  infectious  to  the  state  of  Religion  or  manners,  but  rather,  as  I 
suppose,  medecinable." — Bacon:  Dedication  to  Eaaays,  1597. 

In  an  age  so  essentially  utilitarian  as  the  present,  no 
inquiry  is  likely  to  engage  the  permanent  attention  of 
the  public,  unless  it  be  practical  in  its  bearings. 

Even  then,  if  the  course  of  such  inquiry  lead  to  the 
examination  of  extraordinary  phenomena,  it  will  be 
found  that  evidence  the  most  direct,  apparently  suflScing 
to  prove  the  reality  of  these,  will  usually  leave  the  minds 
of  men  incredulous,  or  in  doubt,  if  the  appearances  bo 
of  isolated  character,  devoid  of  authentic  precedent  in 
the  past,  and  incapable  of  classification,  in  the  propei 
niche,  among  analogous  results;  much  more,  in  case 
they  involve  a  suspension  of  the  laws  of  nature. 

B  2*  17 


18  THE   INQUIRY   PRACTICAL. 

If  I  entertain  a  hope  of  winning  the  public  ear,  while 
I  broach,  broadly  and  frankly,  the  question  whether 
oocasional  interferences  from  another  world  in  this  be 
reality  or  delusion,  it  is,  first,  because  I  feel  confident 
in  being  able  to  show  that  the  inquiry  is  of  a  practical 
nature;  and,  secondly,  because  the  plienomena  which  I 
purpose  to  examine  in  connection  with  it  are  not  of  iso- 
lated, still  less  of  miraculous,  character.  In  the  etymo- 
logical sense  of  the  term,  they  are  not  unlikely,  there 
being  many  of  their  like  to  be  found  adequately  attested 
throughout  history.  They  appear  in  groups,  and  lend 
themselves,  like  all  other  natural  phenomena,  to  classifi- 
cation. 

Extraordinary,  even  astounding,  they  will  usually  be 
considered;  and  that,  not  so  much  because  they  are 
really  uncommon,  as  because  they  have  been,  in  a  mea- 
sure, kept  out  of  sight.  And  this  again  arises,  in  part, 
because  few  dispassionate  observers  have  patiently 
examined  them;  in  part,  because  prejudice,  which  dis- 
credits them,  has  prevented  thousands  to  whom  they 
have  presented  themselves  from  bearing  public  or  even 
private  testimony  to  what  they  have  witnessed;  in  part, 
again,  because,  although  these  phenomena  are  by  no 
means  of  modern  origin,  or  determined  by  laws  but 
recently  operative,  they  appear  to  have  much  increased 
in  frequency  and  variety,  and  to  have  reached  a  new 
stage  of  development,  in  the  last  few  years;  and  finally, 
because  they  are  such  as  readily  stir  up  in  weak  minds 
blind  credulity  or  superstitious  terror,  the  prolific 
sources  of  extravagance  and  exaggeration.  Thus  the 
intelligent  conceal  and  the  ignorant  misstate  them. 

This  condition  of  things  complicates  the  subject,  and 
much  increases  the  difficulty  of  treating  it. 

Again:  though  no  article  of  human  faith  is  better 
founded  than  the  belief  in  the  ultimate  prevalence  of 
truth,  yet,  in  every  thing  relating  to  earthly  progress, 


TIME   AN    ESSENTIAL   ELEMENT.  19 

time  enter*  us  an  essential  element.  The  fruit  dr.'»ps 
not  till  it  has  ripened:  if  nipped  by  early  blight  or 
plucked  by  premature  hand  it  is  imperfect  and  worth- 
less. And  the  world  of  mind,  like  that  of  physical 
nature,  has  its  seasons :  its  spring,  when  the  sap  rises 
and  the  buds  swell;  its  summer,  of  opened  flower  and 
blossom;  its  autumn,  of  yellow  grain.  We  must  not 
expect  to  reap,  in  any  field,  until  harvest-time. 

Yet,  how  gradual  soever  time's  innovations  and  the 
corresponding  progress  of  the  human  mind,  there  are 
certain  epochs  at  which,  by  what  our  short  sight  calls 
chance,  particular  subjects  spring  forth  into  notice,  as 
it  were,  by  a  sudden  impulse,  attracting  general  atten- 
tion, and  thus  predisposing  men's  minds  to  engage  in 
their  investigation.  At  such  epochs,  words  that  at 
other  times  would  fall  unheeded  may  sink  deep  and 
bear  good  fruit. 

It  seldom  happens,  however,  at  the  first  outbreak  of 
any  great  excitement,  when  some  strange  novelty  seems 
bursting  on  the  world,  that  the  minds  of  men,  whether 
of  supporters  or  of  opponents,  maintain  due  moderation, 
either  in  assent  or  in  denial.  The  hasty  ardor  of  new- 
born zeal,  and  the  sense,  quick  to  offense  when  first  im- 
pinged upon,  of  prejudice  long  dominant,  alike  indispose 
to  calm  inquiry,  are  alike  unfavorable  to  critical  judg- 
ment. 

And  thus,  at  the  present  day,  perhaps,  (when  the 
din  of  the  earliest  onset  has  subsided  and  the  still 
small  voice  can  be  heard,)  rather  than  at  any  period 
of  the  last  ten  years,  during  which  our  country  has 
witnessed  the  rise  and  progress  of  what  maj^  be  called 
a  revival  of  Pneumatology,  may  the  subject  be  discussed 
with  less  of  passion  and  received  with  diminished  preju- 
dice. And  if  a  writer,  in  treating  of  it  at  this  juncture, 
escape  some  of  those  shoals  upon  which  earlier  inquirers 
have  stranded,  it  may  be  due  as  much  to  a  happy  seleo- 


20  ISAAC   TAYLOR. 

tion  of  time,  as  to  any  especial  merit  or  superior  dis- 
cern ment. 

Then,  too,  as  to  the  great  question  of  which  I  purpose 
to  examine  the  probabilities,  recent  events  have  not  only 
enlisted  the  attention  of  the  audience :  they  have  also, 
in  a  measure,  opened  way  for  the  speaker.  The  strict- 
ness of  the  taboo  is  relaxed.  And  this  was  greatly  to 
be  desired.  For  the  inquiry  touching  the  probability  of 
ultramundane  intervention — though  it  cannot  be  said  to 
have  been  lost  sight  of  at  any  moment  since  the  dawn 
01  civilization,  though  Scripture  affirm  it  as  to  former 
ages,  and  though,  throughout  later  times,  often  in 
various  superstitious  shapes,  it  has  challenged  the  ter- 
rors of  the  ignorant — had  seemed,  for  a  century  past, 
to  be  gradually  losing  credit  and  reputable  standing, 
and  to  be  doomed  to  exclusion  from  respectable  society 
or  philosophical  circles.  Able  men  cared  not  to  jeopard 
a  reputation  for  common  sense  by  meddling  with  it  at  all. 

With  honorable  exceptions,  however.  Of  these  I  have 
met  with  none  so  original  in  thought,  so  philosophic  in 
spirit,  as  Isaac  Taylor.  Yet  he  has  treated,  with  a 
master's  hand,  one  branch  only  of  the  subject, — the 
analogical.* 

Another  portion  of  this  field  of  research  has  been 
partially  occupied,  from  time  to  time,  by  a  class  of 
writers,  often  German,  usually  set  down  as  superstitious 
dreamers ;  of  which  Jung  Stilling,  perhaps,  is  one  of 
the  fairest  examples.f    Pious,  earnest,  able,  of  a  pro* 

*  "Physical  Theory  of  Another  Life,"  by  the  Author  of  the  "  Natural 
History  of  Enthusiasm,"  (Isaac  Taylor,)  1  vol.  12mo,  pp.  336.  London, 
1839. 

f  "Theorie  der  Geiaterkunde,"  ("Theory  of  Spiritualism,"  or,  literally,  of 
Spirit-Knowledge,)  by  Jung  Stilling,  originally  published  in  1809.  Johann 
Heinrich  Jung,  better  known  by  his  adjunct  name  of  Stilling,  bom  in  the 
Duchy  of  Nassau  in  1740,  rose  from  poverty  and  the  humblest  position  to 
oe,  first,  Professor  of  Political  Economy  at  Heidelberg,  and  afterward  a 
member  of  the  Aulic  Council  of  the  Grand  Duke  of  Baden. 


STILLING    AND    SWEDENB0R3  21 

jity  beyond  suspicion,  but  somewhat  myiitical  withal, 
the  Aulic  Councilor  of  Baden  sought  proofs  of  his 
speculations  in  alleged  actual  occurrences,  (as  appari 
tions,  house-hauntings,  and  the  like,)  the  records  of 
which  he  adopted,  and  thereupon  erected  his  spirit- 
theory  with  a  facility  of  belief  for  which  the  apparent 
evidence  seems,  in  man}^  of  the  examples  cited,  to  be 
insufficient  warrant.  In  our  day  others  have  pursued  a 
similar  line  of  argument;  in  one  instance,  at  least,  if 
sixteen  editions  in  six  years  may  vouch  for  the  fact, 
attracting  the  sympathy  of  the  public* 

Jacob  Bohme  is  by  some  exalted  to  tbe  highest  rank  among  pneumatolo- 
gists;  but  I  confess  to  inability  to  discover  much  that  is  practical,  or  even 
intelligible,  in  the  mystical  effusions  of  the  worthy' shoemaker  of  Gbrlitz. 
The  fault,  however,  may  be  in  myself;  for,  as  some  one  has  said,  **  He  is 
ever  the  mystic  who  lives  in  the  world  farthest  removed  from  our  own." 

Swedenborg,  the  great  spiritualist  of  the  eighteenth  century,  is  a  writer 
as  to  whose  voluminous  works  it  would  be  presumptuous  to  offer  an  opinion 
without  a  careful  study  of  themj  and  that  I  have  not  yet  been  able  to 
give.  This,  however,  one  may  safely  assert, — that  whatever  judgment  we 
may  pass  on  what  the  Swedish  seer  calls  his  spiritual  experience,  and  how 
little  soever  we  may  be  prepared  to  subscribe  to  the  exclusive  claims 
unwisely  set  up  for  him  by  some  of  his  disciples,  an  eminent  spirit 
and  power  speak  from  his  writings,  which,  even  at  a  superficial  glance, 
must  arrest  the  attention  of  the  right-minded.  His  idea  of  Degrees  and 
Progression,  reaching  from  earth  to  heaven ;  his  doctrine  of  Uses,  equally 
removed  from  ascetical  dreamery  and  from  Utilitarianism  in  its  hard, 
modern  sense ;  his  allegation  of  Influx,  or,  in  other  words,  of  constant  in- 
fluence  exerted  from  tbe  spiritual  world  on  the  material ;  evon  his  strange 
theory  of  Correspondences;  but,  last  and  chief,  his  glowing  appreciation 
of  that  principle  of  Love  which  is  the  fulfilling  of  the  Law;  these  and 
other  kindred  characteristics  of  the  Swedenborgian  system  are  of  too  deep 
and  genuine  import  to  be  lightly  passed  by.  To  claim  for  them  nothing 
more,  they  are  at  least  marvelously  suggestive,  and  therefore  highly  valuable. 

For  tbe  rest,  one  may  appreciate  Swedenborg  outside  of  Swedenborgian- 
ism.  "For  ourselves,"  said  Margaret  Fuller,  "it  is  not  as  a  seer  of 
Ghosts,  but  as  a  seer  of  Truths,  that  Swedenborg  interests  us." 

*  "Night  Side  of  Nature,"  by  Catherine  Crowe,  London,  1  vol.  12mo,  pp. 
!»02.  The  work,  originally  published  in  1848,  reached  its  sixteenth  thousand 
m  1854.  In  common  with  the  older  narrative  colle-*<«ons  of  Glanvii, 
Mather,  Baxter,  Beaumont,  Sinclair,  De  Foe,  and  others  oi  *,jnilar  stamp, 


22  ANIMAL    MAGNETISM. 

It  may  be  conceded,  however,  that  these  narratives 
have  commonly  been  read  rather  to  amuse  an  idle  hour 
than  for  graver  purpose.  They  have  often  excited 
wonder,  seldom  produced  conviction.  But  this,  as  I 
think,  is  due,  not  to  actual  insufficiency  in  this  field, 
but  rather,  first,  to  an  unphilosophical  manner  of  pre- 
senting the  subject, — a  talking  of  wonders  and  miracles, 
when  there  was  question  only  of  natural,  even  if  ultra- 
mundane, phenomena;  and,  secondly,  to  an  indiscri- 
minate mixing-up  of  the  reliable  with  the  apocryphal, 
to  lack  of  judgment  in  selection  and  of  industry  in  veri- 
fication. I  have  not  scrupled  freely  to  cull  from  this 
department;  seeking,  however,  to  separate  the  wheat 
from  the  chaff,  and  content,  in  so  doing,  even  if  the  avail- 
able material  that  remains  shall  have  shrunk  to  some- 
what petty  dimensions. 

Essentially  connected  with  this  inquiry,  and  to  be 
studied  by  all  who  engage  therein,  are  the  phenomena 
embraced  in  what  is  usually  called  Animal  Magnetisfti. 
First  showing  itself  in  France,  three-quarters  of  a  century 
ago,  its  progress  arrested  at  the  outset,  when  its  claims 
were  vague  and  its  chief  phenomena  as  yet  unobserved, 
by  the  celebrated  report  of  Bailly,*  often  falling  into 

it  is  obnoxious  to  the  same  criticism  as  that  of  Stilling ;  yet  any  one  who 
feels  disposed  to  cast  the  volume  aside  as  a  mere  idle  trumping-up  of  ghost- 
stories  might  do  well  first  to  read  its  Introduction,  and  its  Tenth  Chapter  on 
"  the  future  that  awaits  us." 

A  recent  volume  by  the  same  author  ("  Ghosts  and  Family  Legends," 
1859)  makes  no  pretension  to  authenticity,  nor  to  any  higher  purpose 
than  to  help  while  away  a  winter  evening. 

*  Made  to  the  King  of  France,  on  the  11th  of  August,  1784.  It  was 
signed,  among  other  members  of  the  commission,  by  Franklin  and  Lavoisier. 

It  should  especially  be  borne  in  mind  that,  while  the  commissioners-,  in 
that  report,  speak  in  strong  terms  against  the  magnetism  of  1784,  with  ita 
haquctn,  its  crises,  and  its  convulsions, — against  Mesmer's  theory,  too,  of 
a  universal  fluid  with  flux  and  reflux,  the  medium  of  influence  by  the  celestial 
bodies  on  the  human  system,  and  a  universal  curative  agent, — they  expresa 
no  opinion  whatever,  favorable  or  unfavorable,  in  regard  to  somnaml  ilJsm 


ARAGO    ON    BAILLY'S    REPORT.  28 

the  hands  of  untrained  and  superficial  obsenrers,  some- 
times of  arrant  charlatans,  its  pretensions  extravagantly 
stated  by  some  and  arrogantly  denied  by  others,  Animal 
Magnetism  has  won  its  way  through  the  errors  of  its 

properly  so  called.  It  is  nsually  admitted  that  somnambulism,  with  its  attend- 
ant phenomena,  in  the  form  now  known  to  us,  was  observed,  for  the  first  time, 
by  the  Marquis  de  Puysegur,  on  his  estate  of  Buzancy,  near  Soissons,  on  the  4th 
of  March,  1784  j  but  Puys^gur  made  public  his  observations  only  at  the  close 
of  that  year,  four  months  after  the  commissioners'  report  was  made.  Baillj 
and  his  associates,  learned  and  candid  as  they  were,  must  not  be  cited  as 
condemning  that  which  they  had  never  seen  nor  heard  of.  To  this  fact 
Arago,  a  man  who  rose  superior  to  the  common  prejudices  of  his  associates, 
honestly  testifies.  I  translate  from  his  notice  of  the  life  and  career  of  the 
unfortunate  Bailly,  published  in  the  "Annuaire  du  Bureau  des  Longitudes" 
for  1853.  "  The  report  of  Bailly,"  says  he,  "  upset  from  their  foundations  the 
ideas,  the  system,  the  practice,  of  Mesmer  and  his  disciples :  let  us  add,  in 
all  sincerity,  that  we  have  no  right  to  evoke  its  authority  against  modem 
tomnambtUism.  Most  of  the  phenomena  now  grouped  around  that  name 
were  neither  knoyrn  nor  announced  in  1783.  A  magnetizer  undoubtedly 
says  one  of  the  least  probable  things  in  the  world,  when  he  tells  us  that 
such  nn  individual,  in  a  state  of  somnambulism,  can  see  every  thing  in  per- 
fect darkness,  or  read  through  a  wall,  or  even  without  the  aid  of  the  eyes. 
But  the  improbability  of  such  assertions  does  not  result  from  the  celebrated 
report.  Bailly  does  not  notice  such  marvels,  either  to  assert  or  to  deny 
them.  The  naturalist,  the  physician,  or  the  mere  curious  investigator,  who 
engages  in  somnambulic  experiments,  who  thinks  it  his  duty  to  inquire 
whether,  in  certain  states  of  nervous  excitement,  individuals  are  really 
endowed  with  extraordinary  faculties, — that,  for  instance,  of  reading  through 
the  epigastrium  or  the  heel, — who  desires  to  ascertain  positively  up  to  what 
point  the  phenomena  announced  with  so  much  assurance  by  modern  mag« 
notizers  belong  only  to  the  domain  of  the  rogue  or  the  conjurer, — all  such 
inquirers,  wo  say,  are  not  in  this  case  running  counter  to  a  judgment  ren- 
dered ;  they  are  not  really  opposing  themselves  to  a  Lavoisier,  a  Franklin,  a 
Bailly.  "hey  are  entering  upon  a  world  entirely  new,  the  very  existence 
of  whicn  these  illustrious  sages  did  not  suspects" — (pp.  444—445.) 

A  little  further  on  in  the  same  article,  Arago  adds,  "  My  object  has  been 
to  show  that  somnambulism  ought  not  to  be  rejected  a  priori,  especially  by 
those  who  have  kept  up  with  the  progress  of  modern  physical  science." 
And,  in  reproof  of  that  presumption  which  so  often  denies  without  examin- 
ing, he  quotes  these  excellent  lines,  which,  he  says,  the  truly  learned  ought 
tc  bear  constantly  in  mind : — 

"  Croire  tout  d^couvert  est  une  erreur  profonde ; 
C'est  prendre  Thorizon  pour  les  homes  da  monde." 


24  MEDICAL  ADMISSIONS. 

friends  and  the  denunciations  of  its  enemies,  and  (what 
is  harder  yet  to  combat)  through  frequent  mystifications 
by  impostors  and  occasional  gross  abuse  of  its  powers, 
to  the  notice  and  the  researches  of  men  of  unquestioned 
talent  and  standing, — among  them,  eminent  members  of 
the  medical  profession, — and  has  at  last  obtained  a 
modest  place  even  in  accredited  and  popular  treatises 
on  physiological  science.* 

The  alleged  proofs  and  analogical  arguments  above 
alluded  to  in  fiivor  of  ultramundane  intercourse,  together 
with  such  corroboration  as  the  phenomena  of  somnam- 
bulism afford,  were  all  given  to  the  world  previous  to 
the  time  when,  in  the  obscure  village  of  Hydesville, 
a  young  girl,t  responding  to  the  persistent  knockings 
which  for  several  nights  had  broken  the  rest  of  her 
mother  and  sisters,  chanced  upon  the  discovery  that 


*  An  example  may  be  found  in  "  Principles  of  Hnman  Physiology,"  by 
William  B.  Carpenter,  M.D.,  F.R.R.  and  P.G.S.,  5th  edition,  London,  1855, 
§  696,  (at  pages  647  et  acq.,)  under  the  head  "  Mesmerism."  Dr.  Car- 
penter discredits  the  higher  phenomena  of  Clairvoyance,  but  admits, 
1st.  A  state  of  complete  insensibility,  during  which  severe  surgical  opera- 
tions may  be  performed  without  the  consciousness  of  the  patient.  2d.  Arti- 
ficial somnambulism,  with  manifestation  of  the  ordinary  power  of  mind,  but 
no  recollection,  in  the  waking  state,  of  what  has  passed.  3d.  Exaltation 
of  the  senses  during  such  somnambulism,  so  that  the  somnambule  perceives 
what  in  his  natural  condition  he  could  not.  4th.  Action,  during  such  som- 
nambulism, on  the  muscular  apparatus,  so  as  to  produce,  for  example,  arti- 
ficial catalepsy ;  and,  5th.  Perhaps  curative  effects. 

Dr.  Carpenter  says  his  mind  is  made  up  as  to  the  reality  of  these  pheno- 
mena, and  that  "he  does  not  see  why  any  discredit  should  attach  to  them.** 
(Note  at  page  649.) 

The  character  and  standing  of  this  gentleman's  numerous  works  on 
physiology  and  medical  science  are  too  widely  known  to  need  indorsement.. 

f  Kate,  youngest  daughter  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  John  D.  Fox,  and  then  aged 
nine.  It  was  on  the  night  of  the  31st  of  March,  1848.  This  was,  however, 
as  will  be  seen  in  the  sequel,  by  no  means  the  first  time  that  the  observa. 
tion  had  been  made  that  similar  sounds  showed  appearance  of  intelligence. 

Por  the  particulars  of  the  Hydesville  story,  see  the  last  narrative  in 
Book  III. 


PHENOMENA   INDEPENDENT    OF   OPINIONS.  25 

these  sounds  seemed  to  exhibit  characteristics  of  intel- 
ligence. 

From  that  day  a  new  and  important  phase  has  offered 
itself  to  the  attention  of  the  student  in  pneumatology, 
and  with  it  a  new  duty;  that  of  determining  the  true 
character  of  what  is  sometimes  termed  the  American 
Epidemic,  more  wonderful  in  its  manifestations,  far  wider 
spread  in  its  range,  than  any  of  the  mental  epidemics, 
marvelous  in  their  phenomena  as  some  of  them  have 
been,  recorded  by  physicians  and  psychologists  of  con- 
tinental Europe. 

From  that  day,  too,  there  gradually  emerged  into  notice 
a  new  department  in  the  science  of  the  soul, — the  posi- 
tive and  experimental.  Until  now  the  greater  number  of 
accredited  works  on  psychology  or  pneumatology  have 
been  made  up  exclusively  of  speculations  drawn  either 
from  analogy  or  from  history,  sacred  or  profane, — emi- 
nent sources,  yet  not  the  only  ones.  No  such  work  ought 
now  to  be  regarded  as  complete  without  an  examination 
of  phenomena  as  well  as  a  citation  of  authorities.  And 
thus,  though  a  portion  of  the  present  volume  consists 
of  historical  recallings,  since  the  wonders  of  the  present 
can  seldom  be  fitly  judged  without  the  aid  of  the  past, 
another  and  larger  portion  embraces  narratives  of 
modern  date,  phenomena  of  comparatively  recent  occur- 
rence, the  evidence  for  which  has  been  collected  with 
the  same  care  with  which  a  member  of  the  legal  pro- 
fession is  wont  to  examine  his  witnesses  and  prepare 
his  case  for  trial. 

In  perusing  a  work  of  this  character,  the  reader  will 
do  well  to  bear  in  mind  that  phenomena  exist  indepen- 
dently of  all  opinions  touching  their  nature  or  origiu. 
A  fact  is  not  to  be  slighted  or  disbelieved  because  a 
false  theory  may  have  been  put  forth  to  explain  it.  It 
tias  its  importance,  if  it  be  important  at  all,  irrespective 
of  all  theories. 

3 


26  SENTIMENT   LINKED    TO   ACTION. 

And  if  it  should  be  alleged,  as  to  this  class  of  facts, 
that  they  have  no  intrinsic  importance,  the  reply  is,  first, 
that  although  the  present  age,  as  at  the  outset  I  have  ad- 
mitted, be  a  utilitarian  one, — though  it  seek  the  positive 
and  bold  to  the  practical, — ^yet  the  positive  and  the  prac- 
tical may  be  understood  in  a  sense  falsely  restrictive. 
Man  does  not  live  by  bread  alone.  He  lives  to  develop 
and  to  improve,  as  much  as  to  exist.  And  development 
and  improvement  are  things  as  real  as  existence  itself. 
That  which  brings  home  to  our  consciousness  noble 
ideas,  refined  enjoyment,  that  which  bears  good  fruit  in 
the  mind,  even  though  we  perceive  it  not  with  our  eyes 
nor  touch  it  with  our  hands,  is  something  else  than  an 
idle  dream.  The  poetry  of  life  is  more  than  a  metaphor. 
Sentiment  is  linked  to  action.  Nor  is  the  world,  with 
all  its  hard  materialism,  dead  to  these  truths.  There  is 
a  corner,  even  in  our  work-a-day  souls,  where  the  ideal 
lurks,  and  whence  it  may  be  called  forth,  to  become, 
not  a  mere  barren  fancy,  but  the  prolific  parent  of  pro- 
gress. And  from  time  to  time  it  is  thus  called  forth,  to 
ennoble  and  to  elevate.  It  is  not  the  enthusiast  only 
who  aspires.  What  is  civilization  but  a  realization  of 
human  aspirations  ? 

Yet  I  rest  not  the  case  here,  in  generalities.  When 
I  am  told  that  studies  such  as  form  the  basis  of  this 
work  are  curious  only,  and  speculative  in  their  character, 
leading  to  nothing  of  solid  value,  and  therefore  un- 
worthy to  engage  the  serious  attention  of  a  business 
world,  my  further  reply  is,  that  such  allegation  is  a 
virtual  begging  of  the  very  question  which  in  this 
volume  I  propose  to  discuss.  It  is  an  assuming  of  the 
negative  in  advance ;  it  is  a  taking  for  granted  that  the 
phenomena  in  question  cannot  possibly  establish  the 
reality  of  ultramundane  interference. 

For,  if  they  do,  he  must  be  a  hardy  or  a  reckless  man 
who  shall  ask,  "  Where  is  the  good  ?"     This  ia  not  our 


THE   HOME   ON    THE   OTHER   SIDE.  27 

abiding-place;  and  though,  during  our  tenancy  of  sixty 
or  seventy  years,  it  behoove  us  to  task  our  best  energies 
in  the  cause  of  earthly  improvement  and  happiness, — 
though  it  be  our  bounden  duty,  while  here,  to  care,  in  a 
measure,  for  the  worldly  welfare  of  all,  more  especially 
for  the  wants  and  comforts  of  our  own  domestic  hearth, — 
and  though,  as  human  workers,  much  the  larger  portion 
of  our  thoughts  and  time  must  be,  or  ought  to  be,  thus 
employed, — yet,  if  our  permanent  dwelling-place  is  soon 
to  be  established  elsewhere ;  if,  as  the  years  pass,  our 
affections  are  stealing  thither  before  us ;  if  the  home- 
circle,  gradually  dissolving  here,  is  to  be  reconstituted, 
fresh  and  enduring,  in  other  regions,*  shall  we  hold  it 
to  be  matter  of  mere  idle  curiosity,  fantastic  and  in- 
different, to  ascertain,  whether,  in  sober  truth,  an  inti- 
mation from  that  future  home  is  ever  permitted  to  reach 
us,  here  on  our  pilgrimage,  before  we  depart  ? 

We  canijot  curtly  settle  this  question,  as  some  assume 
to  do,  by  an  a  priori  argument  against  the  possibility  of 
human  intercourse  with  the  denizens  of  another  w^orld. 
Especially  is  the  Bible  Christian  barred  from  employing 

*  "We  start  in  life  an  unbroken  company :  brothers  and  sisters,  friends 
and  lovers,  neighbors  and  comrades,  are  with  us :  there  is  circle  within  cir- 
cle, and  each  one  of  us  is  at  the  charmed  center,  where  the  heart's  aflFection» 
are  aglow  and  whence  they  radiate  outward  on  society.  Youth  is  exuberant 
with  joy  and  hopej  the  earth  looks  fair,  for  it  sparkles  with  May-dews  wet, 
and  no  shadow  hath  fallen  upon  it.  We  are  all  here,  and  we  could  lire  here 
forever.  The  home-center  is  on  the  hither  side  of  the  river;  and  why  should 
we  strain  our  eyes  to  look  beyond  ?  But  this  state  of  things  does  not  con- 
tinue long.  Our  circle  grows  less  and  less.  It  is  broken  and  broken,  and 
then  closed  up  again ;  but  every  break  and  close  make  it  narrower  and 
smaller.  Perhaps  befbre  the  sun  is  at  his  meridian  the  majority  are  on 
the  other  side )  the  circle  there  is  as  large  as  the  one  here ;  and  we  are  drawn 
contrariwise  and  vibrate  between  the  two.  A  little  longer,  and  almost  all 
have  crossed  over;  the  balance  settles  down  on  the  spiritual  side,  and  the 
home-center  is  removed  to  the  upper  sphere.  At  length  you  see  nothing 
but  an  aged  pilgrim  standing  alone  on  the  river's  bank  and  looking  ear- 
nestly toward  the  country  on  the  other  side." — "  Foregleams  of  fmmort^iti/,'' 
bv  Edmund  H.  Sears.  4th  ed.,  Boston,  1858:  chap,  xvi.,  "Home/'  p.  136. 


28  WHITHER   SADDUCISM   MAY   LEAD. 

any  such.  That  which  has  been  may  be.*  The  Scrip- 
tures teach  that  such  intercourse  did  exist  in  earlier 
days ;  and  they  nowhere  declare  that  it  was  thenceforth 
to  cease  forever. 

And  when,  in  advance  of  any  careful  examination  of 
this  question,  we  decide  that,  in  our  day  at  least,  no 
such  intervention  is  possible,  it  might  be  well  that  we 
consider  whether  our  Sadducism  go  not  further  than  we 
think  for;  whether,  without  our  consciousness  perhaps, 
it  strike  not  deeper  than  mere  disbelief  in  modern 
spiritual  agencies.  Let  us  look  to  it,  that,  in  slightingly 
discarding  what  it  is  the  fashion  to  regard  as  supersti- 
tion, we  may  not  be  virtually  disallowing  also  an  essen- 
tial of  faith.f  Does  the  present  existence  of  another 
world  come  home  to  us  as  a  living  truth?  Do  we 
verily  believe  that  beings  of  another  sphere  are  around 
us,  watching,  caring,  loving  ?     Is  it  with  our  hearts,  or 

*  "Why  come  not  spirits  from  the  realms  of  glory, 
To  visit  earth,  as  in  the  days  of  old, — 
The  times  of  ancient  writ  and  sacred  story  ? 
Is  heaven  more  distant  ?  or  has  earth  grown  cold  ?  .  .  , 

**To  Bethlehem's  air  was  their  last  anthem  given 
When  other  stars  before  the  One  grew  dim  ? 
Was  their  last  presence  known  in  Peter's  prison, 
Or  where  exulting  martyrs  raised  the  hymn  ?" 

Julia  Wallice. 

f  Whence  do  such  able  reasoners  as  Dr.  Strauss  derive  their  most  efficient 
ireapons  in  the  assault  upon  existing  faith  ?  From  the  modern  fashion  of 
denying  all  ultramundane  intrusion.  That  which  we  reject  as  incredible 
if  alleged  to  have  happened  to-day,  by  what  process  does  it  become  credible 
by  being  moved  back  two  thousand  years  into  the  past? 

"The  totality  of  finite  things,"  says  Strauss,  "forms  a  vast  circle,  which, 
except  that  it  owes  its  existence  and  laws  to  a  superior  power,  suflFers  no 
intrusion  from  without.  This  conviction  is  so  much  a  habit  of  thought 
^ith  the  modern  world,  that  in  actual  life  the  belief  in  a  supernatural 
manifestation,  an  immediate  divine  agency,  is  at  once  attributed  io  igno- 
<«nce  or  imposture." — ^'Xife  of  Jeaua,"  vol.  i.  p.  71. 


HADES.  29 

with  our  lips  only,  that  we  assent,  if  indeed  we  do  as- 
sent,* to  the  doctrine  contained  in  Milton's  lines  ? — 

"  Millions  of  spiritual  creatures  walk  the  earth, 
Unseen,  both  when  we  wake  and  when  we  sleep." 

If  all  this  be  more  to  us  than  mere  idle  sound,  with 
what  show  of  reason  can  we  take  it  for  granted,  as  a  point 
settled  prior  to  all  discussion  of  it,  that  intercourse  with 
another  world  is  no  longer  vouchsafed  to  us  in  this  ? 

All  reasoning  a  prioriy  if  resorted  to  at  all,  tells  in 
favor  of  such  intervention.  One  of  the  strongest 
natural  arguments  in  proof  of  the  soul's  immortality- 
has  ever  been  held  to  be  the  universality  of  man's 
belief  in  an  after-life;  a  sentiment  so  common  to  all 
ages  and  nations  that  it  may  claim  the  character  of  an 
instinct.f    But  the  belief  in  the  occasional  appearance, 

*  "  Men  have  ever  been  familiar  with  the  idea  that  the  spirit  does  not 
rest  with  the  body  in  the  grave,  but  passes  at  once  into  new  conditions  of 
being.  The  opinion  has  gained  adherence,  and  disputes  the  ground  with 
the  more  material  one,  that  it  rests  in  sleep  with  the  body  to  await  one 
common  day  of  awakening  and  judgment;  and  so  confused  are  the  common 
impressions  on  the  subject  that  you  may  hear  a  clergyman,  in  his  funeral 
sermon,  deliberately  giving  expression  to  both  in  one  discourse,  and  telling 
you,  in  the  same  breath,  that  my  lady  lately  deceased  is  a  patient  inhabit- 
ant of  the  tomb,  and  a  member  of  the  angelic  company.  But  the  idea  of 
uninterrupted  life  has  so  strong  a  hold  on  the  affections,  which  cannot  bear 
the  idea  of  even  the  temporary  extinction  of  that  which  they  cling  to,  that 
it  has  the  instinctive  adherence  of  almost  every  one  who  has  felt  deeply 
and  stood  face  to  face  with  death." — (London)  National  Review  for  July, 
1858,  p.  32. 

The  question  of  a  mediate  state  of  existence  commencing  at  the  moment 
of  death,  the  Hades  alike  of  the  ancients  and  of  early  Christianity,  will  be 
touched  upon  later  in  this  volume. 

There  are  those  who  admit  the  objective  reality  of  apparitions,  yet,  deny- 
ing the  existence  of  any  mediate  state  after  death,  adopt  the  theory  that  it 
is  angels  of  an  inferior  rank  created  such,  who,  for  good  purpose,  occasion- 
ally personate  deceased  persons,  and  that  the  departed  never  return.  This 
iii  De  Foe's  hypothesis,  and  is  ably  advocated  by  him  in  his  "  Universal  Hit' 
tory  of  Apparitions,"  London,  1727. 

The  broad  question  is,  whether  *'  spiritual  creatures,"  be  they  angels  or 
departed  souls,  are  present  around  us. 

t  The  best  analogical  argument  which  I  remember  to  have  met  with  ia 


80  OPINIONS   OF   JOHNSON,  BYRON, 

or  influence  on  human  affairs,  of  disembodied  spirits,*  is 
scarcely  less  general  or  less  instinctive;  though  it  is  to 
be  admitted  that  in  the  Dark  Ages  it  commonly  de- 
generated into  demonology.f  The  principle,  however, 
may  be  true  and  the  form  erroneous;  a  contingency 
of  constant  recurrence  throughout  the  history  of  the 
human  mind,  as  when  religion,  for  example,  Assumed 
and  maintained  for  ages  the  pagan  form. 

The  matter  at  issue,  then,  must  be  grappled  with 
more  closely.  We  have  no  right  to  regard  it  as  a 
closed  question,  bluffly  to  reject  it  as  involving  incredi- 
ble assumptions,  or  to  dismiss  it  with  foregone  conclu- 
sions under  terms  of  general  denial.J      It   is   neither 


favor  of  the  immortality  of  the  soul  is  contained  in  Isaac  Taylor's  work 
already  referred  to,  the  ''Physical  Theory  of  Another  Life,"  at  pp.  64  to  69. 
This  argument  from  analogy  must,  I  think,  be  regarded  as  much  more 
forcible  than  the  abstract  logic  by  which  the  ancient  philosophers  sought  to 
establish  the  truth  in  question.  When  Cicero,  following  Socrates  and 
Plato,  says  of  the  soul,  "  Nee  discerpi,  nee  distrahi  potest,  nee  igitur  in- 
terire,"  the  ingenuity  of  the  reasoning  is  more  apparent  than  its  con- 
clusiveness. 

*  Disembodied,  disconnected  from  this  natural  body;  not  unemhodied; 
for  I  by  no  means  impugn  the  hypothesis  of  a  spiritual  body. — 1  Cor.  xv.  44. 

f  "  To  deny  the  possibility,  nay,  actual  existence,  of  witchcraft  and  sor- 
cery, is  at  once  flatly  to  contradict  the  revealed  word  of  God,  in  various 
passages  both  of  the  Old  and  New  Testament ;  and  the  thing  itself  is  a  truth 
to  which  every  nation  in  the  world  hath,  in  its  turn,  borne  testimony,  either 
by  examples  seemingly  well  attested,  or  by  prohibitory  laws,  which  at  least 
suppose  the  possibility  of  commerce  with  evil  spirits." — Blackatone'a  Com- 
mentaries, b.  4,  c,  4,  ^  6. 

I  adduce  the  above  from  so  distinguished  a  source  on  account  of  its  bear- 
ings on  the  universality  of  man's  belief  in  ultramundane  intercourse,  and  to 
rebut  a  presumption  against  that  intercourse,  now  in  vogue ;  not  as  proof 
of  the  reality  of  such  intercourse. 

J  It  may  not  be  amiss  here  to  remind  the  reader  that  by  such  men  as 
Johnson  and  Byron  the  universal  belief  of  man  in  intercourse  with  the 
spirits  of  the  departed  was  regarded  as  probable  proof  of  its  occasional 
."eality.  It  will  be  remembered  that  the  former,  in  his  **Rasselas,"  puts 
into  the  mouth  of  the  sage  Imlac  this  sentiment: — "That  tne  dead  are  seen 
no  more  I  will  not  undertake  to  maintain  against  the  concurrent  testimony 


ADDISON,   AND    STEELE.  SI 

logical  nor  becoming  for  men  to  decide,  in  advance  of 
investigation,  that  it  is  contrary  to  the"  divine  economy 
that  there  should  be  ultramundane  interference.  It  i« 
our  business  to  examine  the  Creator's  works,  and 
thence,  if  needs  we  must,  to  derive  conclusions  as  to  His 
intentions.     It  is  our  province  to  seek  out  and  establish 

of  all  ages  and  all  nations.  There  is  no  people,  rude  or  unlearned,  among 
whom  apparitions  of  the  dead  are  not  related  and  believed.  This  opinion, 
which  prevails  as  far  as  human  nature  is  di£fused,  could  become  universal 
only  by  its  truth :  those  that  never  heard  of  one  another  would  not  have 
agreed  in  a  tale  which  nothing  but  experience  could  make  credible.  That 
it  is  doubted  by  single  cavilers  can  very  little  weaken  the  general  evi- 
dence ;  and  some,  who  deny  it  with  their  tongues  confess  it  with  their 
fears." 

To  this  passage  Byron  alludes  in  the  following : — 

,  "I  merely  mean  to  say  what  Johnson  said, 

That,  in  the  course  of  some  six  thousand  years, 

All  nations  have  believed  that  from  the  dead 
A  visitant  at  intervals  appears. 

And  what  is  strangest  upon  this  strange  head, 
Is,  that,  whatever  bar  the  reason  rears 

'Gainst  such  belief,  there's  something  stronger  still 

In  its  behalf,  let  those  deny  who  will." 

Addison's  opinion  on  the  same  subject  is  well  known.  It  is  contained 
in  one  of  the  numbers  of  The  Spectator  ascertained  to  be  from  his  pen, — 
namely,  No.  110,  published  Friday,  July  6,  1711, — and  is  in  these  words: — 

"  I  think  a  person  who  is  thus  terrified  with  the  imagination  of  ghost* 
and  specters  much  more  reasonable  than  one  who,  contrary  to  the  reports 
of  all  historians,  sacred  and  profane,  ancient  and  modern,  and  to  the 
traditions  of  all  nations,  thinks  the  appearance  of  spirits  fabulous  and 
groundless.  Could  not  I  give  myself  up  to  this  general  testimony  of  man- 
kind, I  should  to  the  relations  of  particular  persons  who  are  now  living, 
and  whom  I  cannot  distrust  in  other  matters  of  fact." 

Another  distinguished  contributor  to  The  Spectator  seems  to  have  shared 
the  same  opinion.  The  author  of  "A  Treatise  on  Secotid-Sight,  Dreams,  «uid 
Apparitions,"  a  Highland  clergyman,  I  believe,  named  Macleod,  but  writing 
under  the  signature  of  Theophilus  Insulanut,  says, — 

"  What  made  me  inquire  more  narrowly  into  the  subject,  was  in  conse- 
quence ot  a  conversation  I  had  with  Sir  Richard  Steele,  who  engaged  mt 
to  search  for  instances  of  it  well  attested." — Treatise  on  Second-Sight,  <&«., 
Edinburgh,  1763,  p.  97. 


82  TRUTH  IN  EVERY  RANK. 

facts,  and  then  to  build  upon  them ;  not  to  erect  on  the 
sand  of  preconception  hazarded  theories  of  our  own, 
which  Science,  in  her  onward  march,  may  assault  and 
overthrow,  as  did  the  system  of  Galileo  the  theology 
of  the  Koman  inquisitors.* 

As  little  defensible  is  it,  in  case  we  should  happen  in 
search  of  its  proofs  to  come  upon  the  testimony  of  the 
humble  and  the  unlettered,  that  we  refuse  audience  to 
any  well-attested  fact  because  we  may  not  consider  its 
origin  sufficiently  reputable.  We  may  learn  from  all 
classes.  We  shall  find  truth  in  every  rank.  Things 
that  escape  the  reputed  wise  and  prudent  may  be 
perceived  by  those  who  in  technical  knowledge  are 
but  children  in   comparison.     Mere  learning  does  not 


*  Taylor  has  a  passage  on  this  subject  well  deserving  our  notice.  Speak- 
ing of  the  belief  in  "  occasional  interferences  of  the  dead  with  the  living,'* 
which,  he  says,  *'  ought  not  to  be  summarily  dismissed  as  a  mere  folly  of 
the  vulgar,"  he  adds : — 

"In  considering  questions  of  this  sort,  we  ought  not  to  listen,  for  a 
moment,  to  those  frequent  but  impertinent  questions  that  are  brought  for- 
ward  with  a  view  of  superseding  the  inquiry ;  such,  for  example,  as  these : 
— *What  good  is  answered  by  the  alleged  extra-natural  occurrences?'  or, 
*  Is  it  worthy  of  the  Supreme  Wisdom  to  permit  them?'  and  so  forth.  The 
question  is  a  question,  first,  of  testimony,  to  be  judged  of  on  the  established 
principles  of  evidence,  and  then  of  physiology ;  but  neither  of  theology 
nor  of  morals.  Some  few  human  beings  are  wont  to  walk  in  their  sleep; 
and  during  the  continuance  of  profound  slumber  they  perform,  with  pre- 
cision and  safety,  the  offices  of  common  life,  and  return  to  their  beds,  and 
yet  are  totally  unconscious  when  they  awake  of  what  they  have  done. 
Now,  in  considering  this  or  any  such  extraordinary  class  of  facts,  our  busi- 
ness is,  in  the  first  place,  to  obtain  a  number  of  instances  supported  by  the 
distinct  and  unimpeachable  testimony  of  intelligent  witnesses ;  and  then, 
being  thus  in  possession  of  the  facts,  to  adjust  them,  as  well  as  we  can,  to 
other  parts  of  our  philosophy  of  human  nature.  Shall  we  allow  an 
objector  to  put  a  check  to  our  scientific  curiosity  on  the  subject,  for  in- 
stance, of  somnambulism,  by  saying,  *  Scores  of  these  accounts  have  turned 
out  to  be  exaggerated  or  totally  untrue,'  or,  *  This  walking  in  the  sleep 
ought  not  to  be  thought  possible,  or  as  likely  to  be  permitted  by  tho 
Benevolent  Guardian  of  human  welfare*?" — Physical  ITieoty  of  Atmtkef 
Lifc^  p.  27. 


A   REACTION.  88 

always  enlighten:  it  may  but  distort  and  obscure. 
That  is  a  shrewd  touch  of  satire,  often  applicable  in 
practical  life,  which  Goethe  puts  in  the  mouth  of  him 
of  the  Iron  Hand,  stout  ''  Gotz  of  Berlichingen." 
When  his  little  son,  after  repeating  his  well-conned 
lesson  in  geography  about  the  village  and  castle  of  Jaxt- 
hausen, — the  Berlichingen  family-seat,  on  the  banks  of 
the  river  Jaxt, — could  not  reply  to  his  parent's  ques- 
tion as  to  what  castle  he  was  talking  about,  the  old 
warrior  exclaims,  "  Poor  child  !  he  knows  not,  for  veiy 
learning,  his  own  father's  house!" 

The  majority  of  educated  men  set  aside,  with  little 
thought  or  scruple,  all  stories  of  haunted  houses,  all  nar- 
ratives of  apparitions,  all  allegations  touching  prophetic 
or  clear-sighted  dreams,  and  similar  pretensions,  as  the 
ignoble  offshoots  of  vulgar  superstition.  Yet  there  has 
been  of  late  a  reaction  in  this  matter.  Here  and  there 
we  come  upon  indications  of  this.  It  is  within  my  know- 
ledge, that  a  few  years  since,  at  one  of  the  chief  English 
universities,  a  society  was  formed  out  of  some  of  its  most 
distinguished  members,  for  the  purpose  of  instituting, 
as  their  printed  circular  expresses  it,  "a  serious  and 
earnest  inquiry  into  the  nature  of  the  phenomena 
which  are  vaguely  called  supernatural."  They  sub- 
jected these  to  careful  classification,  and  appealed  to 
their  friends  outside  of  the  society  to  aid  them  in 
forming  an  extensive  collection  of  authenticated  cases, 
as  well  of  remarkable  dreams  as  of  apparitions, 
whether  of  persons  living  or  of  the  deceased ;  the  use 
to  be  made  of  these  to  be  a  subject  for  future  con- 
sideration.* 


*  The  society  referred  to  was  formed  in  the  latter  part  of  the  year  1851, 
at  Cambridge,  by  certain  members  of  the  University,  some  of  them  now 
at  the  head  of  well-known  institutions,  most  of  them  clergymen  and  fellowg 
of  Trinity  College,  and  almost  all  of  them  men  who  had  graduated  with 
the  highest  honors.  The  names  of  the  more  active  among  them  were  kindly 
C 


34  THE  GHOST  CLUB. 

It  is  to  be  conceded,  however,  that  examples  such  as 
these,  significant  though  they  be,  are  but  exceptions 
The  rule  is  to  treat  all  alleged  evidences  for  dream-re- 
vealings,  or  for  the  objective  character  of  apparitions,  or 
far  the  reality  of  those  disturbances  that  go  by  the  name 
of  hauntings,  as  due  either  to  accidental  coincidence,  to 
disease,  to  delusion,  or  to  willful  deception.  One  of  the 
objects  of  the  present  volume  is  to  inquire  whether  in 
80  doing  we  are  overlooking  any  actual  phenomena. 

Beyond  this,  upon  a  cognate  subject,  I  do  not  propose 
to  enter.  I  am  not,  in  this  work,  about  to  investigate 
what  goes  by  the  name  of  spiritual  manifestations, — such 
as  table-moving,  rapping,  mediumship,  and  the  like.  As 
the  geologist  prefers  first  to  inspect  the  rock  in  sitUy  so 

furnished  to  me  by  the  son  of  a  British  peer,  himself  one  of  the  leading 
members.  To  him,  also,  I  am  indebted  for  a  copy  of  the  printed  circular 
of  the  society,  an  able  and  temperate  document,  which  will  be  found  at 
length  in  the  Appendix,  {Note  A.)  The  same  gentleman  informed  me 
that  the  researches  of  the  society  had  resulted  in  a  conviction,  shared,  he 
believed,  by  all  its  members,  that  there  ia  suflBcient  testimony  for  the  ap- 
pearance, about  the  time  of  death  or  after  it,  of  the  apparitions  of  deceased 
persons ;  while  in  regard  to  other  classes  of  apparitions  the  evidence,  so 
far  as  obtained,  was  deemed  too  slight  to  prove  their  reality. 

To  a  gentleman  who  had  been  one  of  the  more  active  members  of  the 

society,  the  Rev.  Mr.  W ,  I  wrote,  giving  him  the  title  of  the  present 

work,  and  stating  in  general  terms  the  spirit  and  manner  in  which  I  pro- 
posed to  write  it.  In  his  reply  he  says,  "  I  wish  that  I  were  able  to  make 
any  contribution  to  your  proposed  work  at  all  commensurate  with  the  in- 
terest which  I  feel  in  the  subject  of  it."  .  ..."  I  rejoice  extremely  to 
learn  that  the  subject  is  likely  to  receive  a  calm  and  philosophic  treatment. 
This,  at  least,  it  demands;  and,  for  my  own  part,  I  feel  little  doubt  that 
great  good  will  result  from  the  publication  of  the  work  which  you  are  pre- 
paring. My  own  experience  has  led  me  to  form  a  conclusion  similar  to 
that  which  you  express, — that  the  possibility  of  supramundane  interference 
is  a  question  which  is  gradually  attracting  more  and  more  attention,  espe- 
cially with  men  of  education.  This  circumstance  makes  me  the  more 
anxious  that  a  selection  of  facts  should  be  fairly  laid  before  them.*' 

The  society,  popularly  known  as  the  "  Ghost  Club,"  attracted  a  good  deal 
of  attention  outside  its  own  circle.     Its  nature  and  objects  first  ceme  to  vay 

knowledge  through  the  Bishop  of ,  who  took  an  interest  in  its  proceed- 

ingfi  and  bestirred  himself  to  obtain  contributions  to  its  records. 


CONTEMPT   CORRECTS   NOT.  36 

I  think  it  best,  at  this  time  and  in  this  connection,  to 
examine  the  spontaneous  phenomena,  rather  than  those 
which  are  evoked;  the  phenomena  which  seem  to  come 
unsought,  or,  as  we  usually  phrase  it,  by  the  visitation 
of  God,  rather  than  those  which  appear  to  be  called  up 
through  the  deliberate  eiforts  of  man.  I  have  studied 
the  former  much  more  carefully  than  the  latter;  and 
space  would  fail  m«  in  a  single  volume  to  dispose  of 
both. 

But,  if  I  had  space,  and  felt  competent  to  the  task,  it 
should  not  deter  me  that  the  subject  is  still  in  bad  odor 
and  sometimes  in  graceless  hands.  I  well  know  it  to 
be  the  fashion — and  a  very  reprehensible  fashion  it  is — 
to  pass  by  with  ridicule  or  contempt  the  extraordinary 
results  which  seem  to  present  themselves  in  this  connec- 
tion. Be  the  facts  as  they  may,  such  a  course  is  im- 
politic and  unwise.  It  is  not  by  despising  error  that  we 
correct  it.  No  sensible  man  well  informed  as  to  the 
facts  denies  that,  like  every  other  subject  professing  to 
reach  beyond  the  grave,  this  has  its  fanatics,  misled  by 
fantasies,  dealing  in  vagaries  of  the  imagination.  But 
we  are  not  justified  in  summarily  setting  aside,  untested, 
any  class  of  allegations  because  we  may  have  detected 
among  their  supporters  loose  observation  and  false  logic. 
Rational  opinions  may  be  irrationally  defended.  A 
creed  may  be  true  though  some  of  its  advocates  can 
give  no  sufficient  reason  for  the  faith  that  is  in  them. 
Origanus,  the  astronomical  instructor  of  Wallenstein's 
famous  attendant,  Seni,  was  one  of  the  earliest  defenders 
of  the  Copernican  system;  yet  his  arguments  to  prove 
the  earth's  motion  are  quite  on  a  par,  as  to  the  absurdity 
of  their  character,  with  those  advanced  on  the  opposite 
side  in  favor  of  its  immobility. 

There  is,  then,  nothing  conclusive  in  it,  that  the  in- 
vestigator of  such  a  subject  is  met  with  a  thousand 
exaggerations.    It  does  not  settle  the  question,  that  At 


36  SPIRITUALISM   HAS   BECOME 

every  step  we  detect  errors  and  absurdities.  The  main 
problem  lies  deeper  than  these.  "There  are  errors," 
says  Coleridge,  "which  no  wise  man  will  treat  with 
rudeness  while  there  is  a  probability  that  they  may  be 
the  refraction  of  some  great  truth  as  yet  below  the 
horizon."*  And  he  must  be  a  skeptic  past  saving  who 
has  critically  examined  the  phenomena  in  question  with- 
out reaching  the  conclusion  that,  how  inaccurately  soever 
they  may  have  been  interpreted  until  now,  our  best 
powers  of  reason  are  worthily  taxed  to  determine  their 
exact  character. 

Some  wonders  there  are,  in  this  connection,  opening 
to  human  view.  Tliey  may  be  purely  scientific  in  their 
bearings,  but,  if  so,  none  the  less  well  deserving  a  place 
beside  the  marvels  of  electricity  in  its  various  phases. 
Nor,  even  if  they  finally  prove  to  be  phenomena  exclu- 
Bively  physical,  should  those,  meanwhile,  be  browbeat 
or  discouraged  who  seek  to  detect  therein  ultramundane  . 
ngencies.  There  are  researches  in  which,  if  no  pains 
and  industry  be  spared,  honestly  to  fail  is  as  reputable 
as  to  succeed  in  others.  And  some  of  the  most  important 
discoveries  have  been  made  during  a  search  after  the 
impossible.  Muschenbroeck  stumbled  upon  the  invention 
of  the  Leyden  jar  while  endeavoring,  it  is  said,  to  collect 
and  confine  Thales's  electric  effluvium. 

Moralists  and  statesmen,  too,  should  bear  in  mind  that 
they  have  here  to  deal  with  an  element  which  already 
seriously  influences  human  opinion.  The  phenomena 
sometimes  called  spiritual,  whether  genuine  or  spurious, 
have  attracted  the  attention,  and  won  more  or  less  of 
the  belief,  not  of  thousands  only, — of  millions,  already.f 

*  In  his  first  "  Lay  Sermon." 

f  My  friend  William  Howitt,  the  well-known  author,  who,  with  hig 
amiable  wife,  has  devoted  much  time  and  thought  to  this  subject,  says,  in  a 
reoent  reply  to  the  Rev.  Edward  White's  discourses,  delivered  in  St.  Paul't 
Chapel,    Kentish    Town,  in    October,    November,    and    December,  1858, 


AN    INFLUENTIAL   ELEMENT.  87 

And  if  these  astounding  novelties  are  permitted  to  spread 
among  us  without  chart  or  compass  whereby  to  steer 

"  Spiritualism  is  said  to  hare  convinced  three  millions  of  people  in  Amsrica 
alone.  In  Europe,  I  believe,  there  are  not  less  than  another  million ;  ana 
the  rapidity  with  which  it  is  diffusing  itself  through  all  ranks  and  classes, 
literally  from  the  highest  to  the  lowest,  should  set  men  thinking.  It  would 
startle  some  people  to  discover  in  how  many  royal  palacea  in  Europe  it  is 
firmly  seated,  and  with  what  vigor  it  is  diffusing  itself  through  all  ranks 
and  professions  of  men,  who  do  not  care  to  make  much  noise  about  it;  men 
and  women  of  literary,  religious,  and  scientific  fame." 

I  have  not  the  means  of  judging  as  to  the  accuracy  of  Mr.  Hewitt's  total 
estimate.  It  must  necessarily  be  an  uncertain  one.  But  as  to  the  latter 
portion  of  that  gentleman's  remarks,  I  can  indorse  it  from  personal  know- 
ledge. I  found,  in  Europe,  interested  and  earnest  inquirers  into  this  subject 
in  every  rank,  from  royalty  downward ;  princes,  and  other  nobles,  statesmen, 
diplomatists,  oflBcers  in  the  army  and  navy,  learned  professors,  authors, 
lawyers,  merchants,  private  gentlemen,  fashionable  ladies,  domestic  mothers 
of  families.  Most  of  these,  it  is  true,  prosecute  their  investigations  in  pri- 
vate, and  disclose  their  opinions  only  to  intimate  or  sympathizing  friends. 
But  none  the  less  does  this  class  of  opinions  spread,  and  the  circle  daily 
enlarge  that  receives  them. 

If  further  evidence  of  these  allegations,  so  far  as  they  relate  to  England, 
be  required,  it  is  to  be  found  in  a  late  number  of  a  well-known  London 
Quarterly,  than  which  it  would  be  difficult  to  name  a  periodical  more  opposed 
to  this  movement.  In  the  Westminster  Review  for  January,  1858,  in  an 
elaborate  article  devoted  to  the  subject  the  writer  says,  "  We  should  be  in 
much  error  if  we  suppose  that  table-turning,  or  that  group  of  asserted  phe- 
nomena which  in  this  country  is  embodied  under  that  name,  and  which  in 
America  assumes  the  loftier  title  of  Spiritualism,  in  ceasing  to  occupy  the 
attention  of  the  public  generally,  has  also  ceased  to  occupy  the  attention  of 
every  part  of  it.  The  fact  is  very  much  otherwise.  Our  readers  would  be 
astonished  were  we  to  lay  before  them  the  names  of  several  of  those  who 
are  unflinching  believers  in  it,  or  who  are  devoting  themselves  to  the  study 
or  reproduction  of  its  marvels.  Not  only  does  it  survive,  but  survives  with 
ell  the  charm  and  all  the  stimulating  attractiveness  of  a  secret  science. 
Until  the  public  mind  in  England  shall  be  prepared  to  receive  it,  or  until 
the  evidence  shall  be  put  in  a  shape  to  enforce  general  conviction,  the  pre- 
sent policy  is  to  nurse  it  in  quiet  and  enlarge  the  circle  of  its  influence  by 
a  system  of  noiseless  extension.  Whether  this  policy  will  be  successful 
remains  to  be  seen ;  but  there  can  be  no  doubt  that,  should  ever  the  time 
arrive  for  the  revival  of  this  movement,  the  persons  at  its  head  would  be 
men  and  women  whose  intellectual  qualifications  are  known  to  the  publie 
vid  who  possess  its  confidence  and  esteem." — p.  32. 
A 


88  DANGERS    INCURRED 

our  course  through  an  unexplored  ocean  of  mystery,  we 
may  fird  ourselves  at  the  mercy  of  very  sinister  in- 
fluences. 

Among  th^  communications  heretofore  commonly  ob- 
tained, alleged  to  be  ultramundane,  are  many  which 
seem  to  justify  that  old  saying  of  Pythagoras:  *'It  is 
not  out  of  every  log  of  wood  that  a  Mercury  can  be 
made."  Whether  coming  to  us  from  another  world  or 
from  this,  not  a  few  of  them  contain  a  large  mingling 
of  falsehood  with  truth,  and  a  mass  of  puerilities  alter- 
nating with  reason.  At  times  they  disclose  evil  passions; 
occasionally  they  are  characterized  by  profanity;  and 
some  of  them,  even  where  no  fraud  or  conscious  agency 
is  presumable,  exhibit  unmistakable  evidence  of  a  mun- 
dane origin  or  influence;  as  all  candid,  sensible  advo- 
cates of  the  spiritual  theory,  after  sufiicient  experience, ' 
freely  admit.* 

*  De  Gasparin  considers  it  a  conclusive  argument  against  the  spiritual 
theory,  that  *'  the  particular  opinions  of  each  medium  may  be  recognized  Id 
the  dogmas  he  promulgates  in  the  name  of  the  spirits."  {''Dea  Tables  Tovr- 
Hantes,  du  SurncUurel  en  Geniral,  et  dea  Esprita,"  par  le  Comte  Ag^nor  de 
Gasparin,  Paris,  1855,  vol.  ii.  p.  497.)  He  is  only  partially  accurate  as  to 
the  fact.  It  is  the  questioner  as  often  perhaps  as  the  medium  who  receives 
back  his  own  opinions.  But  this  is  only  sometimes  true  of  either.  It  is, 
however,  beyond  all  doubt,  sometimes  true;  and  the  fact,  however  explained, 
points,  with  many  others,  to  the  urgent  necessity,  on  the  part  of  those  who 
adopt  the  spiritual  hypothesis,  of  receiving  with  the  utmost  care,  and  only 
after  the  strictest  scrutiny,  any  communications,  no  matter  what  their  pre- 
tensions. 

Until  Spiritualists  take  such  precautions, — until  they  sit  in  judgment  on 
what  they  receive,  and  separate  the  chaflF  from  the  wheat, — ^they  cannot 
reasonably  complain  if  the  majority  of  intelligent  men  reject  all  because  a 
part  i8   clearly  worthless.     Nor,  meanwhile,  though  a  witty  squib  prove 
nothing,  can  the  point  be  denied  of  that  which  Saxe  launches  against  some 
alleged  spirit  communicators  of  our  modern  day  : — 
**If  in  your  new  estate  you  cannot  rest. 
But  must  return,  oh,  grant  us  this  request: 
Come  with  a  noble  and  celestial  air. 
And  prove  your  titles  to  the  names  you  bear; 


BY  THE  OVER-CREDULOUS  W 

Hence,  under  any  hypothesis,  great  danger  to  the 
weak-minded  and  the  over-credulous. 

This  danger  is  the  greater,  because  men  are  wont  to 
take  it  for  granted  that,  when  we  shall  have  demon- 
strated (if  we  can  demonstrate)  the  spiritual  character 
of  a  communication,  there  needs  no  further  demonstra- 
tion as  to  the  truth  of  the  facts  alleged  and  the  opinions 
expressed  therein. 

This  is  a  very  illogical  conclusion,  though  distin- 
guished men  have  sometimes  arrived  at  it.*  It  is  one 
thing  to  determine  the  ultramundane  origin  of  a  com- 
munication, and  quite  another  to  prove  its  infallibility, 
even  its  authenticity.  Indeed,  there  are  more  plausible 
reasons  than  many  imagine  for  the  opinion  entertained  by 
some  able  men,  Protestants  as  well  as  Catholic8,f  that  the 

Give  some  clear  token  of  your  heavenly  birth ; 

Write  as  good  English  as  you  wrote  on  earth : 

And,  what  were  once  superfluous  to  advise, 

Don't  tell,  I  beg  you,  such  egregious  lies." 
*  See,  for  an  example,  "Experimental  Examination  of  the  Spirit  Mani- 
fe»tation$*'  by  Robert  Hare,  M.D.,  Emeritus  Professor  of  Chemistry  in  the 
University  of  Pennsylvania,  4th  ed.,  1856,  pp.  14, 15.  When  the  venerable 
author  obtained,  as  he  expressed  it,  "the  sanction  of  the  spirits  under  test 
conditions,"  that  is,  by  means  most  ingeniously  contrived  by  him  to  prevent 
human  deception,  or  (again  to  use  his  own  words)  "  so  that  it  was  utterly 
out  of  the  power  of  any  mortal  to  pervert  the  result  from  being  a  pure  ema- 
nation from  the  spirits  whose  names  were  given,"  he  received  as  authentic, 
without  further  doubt  or  question,  certain  extraordinary  credentials  pur- 
porting to  come  from  another  world.  Professor  Hare  is  now  himself  % 
denizen  of  that  world  where  honest  errors  find  correction,  and  where  to 
uprightness  is  meted  out  its  reward. 

f  As  by  the  Rev.  Charles  Beecher,  in  his  "Review  of  Spiritual  Manifesta- 
tiont,"  chap,  vii.,  where  will  be  found  the  quotation  given  in  the  text. 

De  Mirville  {"Des  Esprita  et  de  leurt  Mani/estationn  fiuidiques"  par  le 
Marquis  de  Mirville,  Paris,  3d  ed.,  1854)  is  the  ablest  modem  exponent  of 
the  Catholic  doctrine  of  Demonology.  The  4th  edition  of  his  work,  so  his 
publishers  inform  me,  is  (May,  1859)  nearly  exhausted.  The  Church  of 
Rome,  it  is  well  known,  recognizes  the  doctrine  of  possession  by  evil  spirita 
ks  an  article  of  faith : — "  Quod  daemon  corpora  hominum  possidere  et  ob»i- 
teere  poesit,  certum  de  fide  est." — Theologia  MjfHiea,  ad  utum  Direetontm 


4t)  DEMONIAC    MANIFESTATIONS. 

communications  in  question  come  from  the  Powers  of 
Darkness,  and  that  "we  are  entering  on  the  first  steps 
of  a  career  of  demoniac  manifestation,  the  issues  whereof 
man  cannot  conjecture."  But  I  see  no  just  cause  what- 
ever for  such  an  opinion.  The  reasons  for  this  revival 
of  an  antiquated  belief  seem  to  me  plausible  only.  God 
has  suffered  evil  to  exist  in  this  world;  yet  we  do  not, 
for  that  reason,  conclude  that  hell  reigns  upon  earth. 
We  reflect  that  perhaps  through  this  very  antagonism 
may  lie  the  path  of  progress.  Or,  at  least,  we  weigh 
the  good  against  the  evil,  and  believe  in  the  beneficence 
of  the  Creator.  But  His  power  is  not  limited  to  this 
side  the  grave.  And  if  He  does  permit  communication 
from  the  other  side,  is  it  in  accordance  with  His  attri- 
butes that  such  communication  should  resolve  itself  into 
mere  demoniac  obsession? 

The  reasons  for  a  belief  so  gloomy  and  discouraging 
appear  to  me  mainly  to  rest,  among  Protestants  at 
least,  upon  an  error  of  very  mischievous  influence,  and 
to  which,  in  a  subsequent  chapter,  on  the  Change  at 
Death,  1  shall  have  occasion  to  advert  at  large.  I  allude 
to  the  opinion,  held  by  many,  that  the  character  of  man 
undergoes,  after  death,  a  sudden  transformation;  and 
that  the  peculiarities  and  prejudices  which  distinguish 
the  individual  in  this  world  do  not  pass  with  him  into 
another.  If  they  do,  the  motley  character  of  commu- 
nications thence  obtained  (if  such  communications  there 
be)  can  excite  no  surprise.  It  is  precisely  what  wo 
may  reasonably  expect.  God  permits  that  from  our 
many-charactered  fellow-creatures  of  this  world  min- 
gled truth  and  falsehood  shall  reach  us :  why  not  also 

Animarum,  Paris,  1848,  vol.  i.  p.  376.  The  Roman  Ritual  {Cap.  Beexor- 
cizandis  obseaxia  a  dsemonio)  supplies,  in  detail,  the  rules  for  exorcising  the 
Demon;  and,  in  point  of  fact,  exorcisms,  at  Rome  and  elsewhere  through- 
out Catholic  countries,  are  at  this  time  of  daily  occurrence,  though  usually 
eonducted  in  private,  and  little  spoken  of  outside  the  pale  of  the  Churcij. 


PROVE   ALL   THINGS.  41 

from  our  fellow-creatures  of  another  world,  if  the  same 
variety  of  feeling  and  opinion  prevail  there?  We  are 
constantly  called  upon,  by  the  exercise  of  our  reason, 
to  separate  the  genuine  from  the  spurious  in  the  one 
case.  Where  do  we  find  warrant  for  the  opinion  that 
we  are  released  from  such  a  duty  in  the  other?  Lest 
we  should  imagine  that,  when  we  are  commanded  to 
prove  all  things,  the  injunction  relates  to  mundane 
agencies  only,  an  express  text  is  added,  declaring  that 
spirits  also  must  be  tested.* 

A  world  in  which  men  should  be  exonerated  from  the 
duty,  or  forbidden  the  right,  to  bring  the  judgment  into 
play, — to  sift,  by  the  strict  dictates  of  conscience,  good 
from  evil,  the  right  from  the  wrong, — would  be  a  world 
disgraced  and  degraded.  If  such  a  principle  were  fully 
carried  out,  it  would  at  last  become  a  world  lacking  not 
only  the  exercise  of  reason,  but  reason  itself  Use,  to 
an  extent  which  it  is  difficult  to  determine,  is  essential 
to  continued  existence.  That  which  ceases  to  fulfill  its 
purpose  finally  ceases  to  be.  The  eyes  of  fishes  found 
far  in  the  interior  of  the  Mammoth  Cave  of  Kentucky, 
shut  out  forever  from  the  light  of  day,  are  rudimental 
only.f 

But  it  is  not  conceivable  that,  under  the  Divine  Eco- 
nomy, an  order  of  things  should  ever  be  permitted,  in 
which  man  should  be  shorn  of  his  noblest  attribute; 
that  which,  more  than  any  other,  stamps  his  superiority, 

♦  1  John  iv.  1. 

f  This  fact  has  heen  verified  by  dissection.  The  fish  in  question  (the 
only  known  species  of  the  genus  Amblyopaia  Spel«ua)  is,  however,  I  believe, 
found  only  in  similar  localities.  Nor  is  it  certain  that  this  fish  is  without 
the  power  to  distinguish  light  from  darkness;  for  the  optic  lobe  remains. 
Drs.  Telkampf,  of  New  York,  and  Wyman,  of  Boston,  have  published 
papers  on  the  subject. 

It  would  be  an  interesting  experiment  to  bring  some  of  these  fishes  to 
the  light,  and  ascertain  whether,  in  the  coarse  of  generations,  their  eyea 
wocld  gradually  become  perfect 

4* 


42  HOLD   PAST   TO   THAT 

on  this  earth,  over  the  lower  animal  races  which  share 
with  him  its  occupation  and  its  enjoyments.  Human 
reason  is  the  appointed  pilot  of  human  civilization ;  fal- 
lible, indeed,  like  any  other  steersman,  but  yet  essential 
to  progress  and  to  safety.  That  pilot  once  dismissed 
from  the  helm,  the  bark  will  drift  at  random,  aban- 
doned to  the  vagrant  influence  of  every  chance  current 
or  passing  breeze. 

Let  us  conceive  a  case  in  illustration.  Let  us  suppose 
that,  from  some  undeniably  spiritual  source,  as  through 
speech  of  an  apparition,  or  by  a  voice  sounding  from 
the  upper  air,  there  should  come  to  us  the  injunction  to 
adopt  the  principle  of  polygamy,  either  as  that  system 
is  legally  recognized  in  Turkey,  or  in  its  unavowed  form, 
as  it  appears  in  the  great  cities  of  the  civilized  world. 
In  such  a  case,  what  is  to  be  done?  The  world  is  God's 
work.  The  experience  of  the  world  is  God's  voice.  Are 
we  to  set  aside  that  experience,  proclaiming  to  us,  as  it 
does,  that  under  the  principle  of  monogamy  alone  have 
man's  physical  powers  and  moral  attributes  ever  main- 
tained their  ascendency,  while  weakness  and  national 
decadence  follow  in  the  train  of  polygamy,  whether 
openly  carried  out,  as  in  Deseret  and  Constantinople,  or 
secretly  practiced,  as  in  London  and  New  York?  Are 
we  to  give  up  the  certain  for  the  uncertain  ? — the  teach- 
ings of  God,  through  His  works,  for  the  biddings  of  we 
know  not  whom? 

The  folly  and  danger  of  so  doing  are  apparent.  Inti- 
mations from  another  world  (supposing  their  reality) 
may  be  useful;  they  may  be  highly  suggestive;  they 
may  supply  invaluable  materials  for  thought:  just  as 
the  opinions  of  some  wise  man  or  the  advice  of  some 
judicious  friend,  here  upon  earth,  might  do.  But  no 
opinion,  no  advice,  from  friend  or  stranger,  ought  to  be 
received  as  infallible,  or  accepted  as  a  rule  of  action, 
until  Eeason  shall  have  sat  in  judgment  upon  it  and 


ONLY  WHICH   IS   GOOD.  43 

decided,  to  the  best  of  her  ability,  its  truth  and 
worth. 

There  exist  not,  nor  can  arise,  any  circumstances 
whatever  that  shall  justify  the  reception  by  man,  as  in- 
fallible and  mandatory,  of  any  such  communication. 
Let  us  suppose  the  extreme  case.  Let  us  imagine  that, 
from  some  intelligence  clearly  ultramundane,  there 
should  come  to  us  a  certain  communication  which, 
fairly  tested  by  reason,  we  decide  to  exceed,  in  depth 
and  wisdom,  any  thing  which  that  reason  unaided  could 
originate.  Are  we,  because  of  the  evident  excellence 
of  that  communication,  to  receive  with  unquestioning 
acquiescence  all  its  fellows  coming  apparently  from  the 
same  source?  In  the  chapter  on  Sleep  cases  will  be 
adduced  in  proof  that  our  intellectual  powers  during 
sleep  sometimes  surpass  any  waking  effort.  Yet  what 
rational  man  would  thence  infer  that  we  ought  to  be 
governed  by  our  dreams? 

If  I  have  dwelt  at  length,  and  insisted  with  sorot* 
iteration,  on  this  matter,  it  is  because  of  the  wide 
spread  mischief  to  which,  in  this  connection,  blindly 
assenting  credulity  has,  in  these  later  times  especially 
given  rise;  it  is  because  of  the  urgent  necessity  for  judg- 
ment to  discriminate,  for  caution  to  scrutinize.  Bat 
the  necessity  is  as  urgent  to  bear  in  mind,  that  judg- 
ment and  caution  are  the  very  opposites  of  proscrip- 
tion and  prejudice.  On  the  supposition  that  spirits  do 
actually  communicate,  if  those  who  ought  to  give  tone 
and  direction  to  public  opinion  content  themselves  wilb 
arrogantly  denouncing  the  whole  as  a  portentous  im- 
posture, they  lose  all  power  or  opportunity  to  regulate 
a  reality  of  which  they  deny  the  existence.*     And  in 

*  Dining,  in  February,  1859,  with  a  gentleman  commercially  well  known 
in  London,  and  sitting  at  table  next  to  the  lady  of  the  house,  she  broached 
the  subject  of  Spiritualism.  I  asked  her  if  she  had  seen  any  of  its  alleged 
phenomena.  She  replied  that  she  had  not;  that,  from  what  she  had  heurd, 


44  CLAIMS   OP   THE    SUBJECT. 

the  case  here  supposed,  our  moral  and  religious  guides 
risk  the  loss  of  influence  and  position  by  putting  aside 
an  all-important  inquiry, — a  contingency  which  as  a 
body  they  appear  to  have  overlooked. 

The  claims  of  the  subject  to  the  notice  of  the  clergy 
and  of  other  public  teachers  are  not  founded  alone  upon 
the  fact  that  this  heresy  (if  heresy  it  be)  has  penetrated 
to  every  rank  and  class  of  society,  and  now  influences, 
more  or  less,  the  opinions  and  the  conduct  of  millions 
throughout  the  civilized  world.  These  claims  reach 
further  still.  The;y  derive  from  the  necessity  of  the 
case.  The  question  as  to  investigation  or  no  investiga- 
tion is  one  of  time  only.  Once  mooted  and  seized  upon 
by  popular  sympathy,  a  matter  like  this  must  be  probed 

she  was  convinced  there  was  some  reality  in  it;  but,  being  of  a  nervous 
temperament,  and  not  assured  of  her  own  self-control,  she  had  refrained 
from  examining  its  manifestations.  "  Then  I  know,"  she  added,  "  that  it 
has  done  so  much  harm.  Has  it  not  ?"  (appealing  to  a  gentleman  sitting 
near  us.)  He  assented  in  strong  terms.  I  begged  him  to  give  me  an  ex- 
ample. "  I  could  give  you  many,"  he  replied,  "  in  the  circle  of  my  ac-. 
quaintance;  but  one  in  particular  occurs  to  me.  The  daughter  of  a  friend 
of  mine,  in  a  family  of  the  utmost  respectability,  and  herself  amiable  and 
intelligent,  is,  at  this  very  time,  quite  carried  away  with  its  delusions.  She 
bad  raps  from  the  table,  and  is  in  the  habit  of  shutting  herself  up,  day 
after  day,  in  the  garret  of  her  father's  house,  spelling  out  communications 
which  she  imagines  to  come  from  departed  spirits.  She  will  not  even  take 
the  exercise  necessary  to  her  health ;  alleging  that  while  she  is  gone  she 
may  lose  the  chance  of  receiving  some  divine  message.  The  remonstrances 
of  her  parents,  who  are  not  at  all  affected  with  the  mania,  are  unavailing  ; 
and  it  causes  them  much  grief" 

Let  us  put  what  interpretation  we  may  upon  that  which  has  been  called 
the  spirit-rap  and  the  communications  thus  obtained,  it  is  evident  that 
such  a  case  as  the  above  savors  of  fanaticism  and  urgently  demands  regu- 
lation. No  condition  of  mind  can  be  healthy — scarcely  sane — which  with- 
draws all  thoughts  from  the  duties  of  earthly  life,  even  from  the  care  of 
bodily  health,  and  suffers  them  to  be  wholly  engrossed  by  such  communica- 
tions ,•  above  all,  when  these  are  received,  unquestioned,  as  divine  and  in- 
fallible revelation. 

But  to  deny  actual  phenomena  is  not  the  proper  mode  to  win  over  a  mis 
lea  or  diseased  mind. 


DUTY   OF    RESEARCH.  46 

to  the  bottom.  There  is  nothing  else  for  it.  We  can 
get  rid  of  it  on  no  other  terms.  We  cannot  hush  it  up 
if  we  would;  we  ought  not  if  we  could.  Viewed  in  itB 
scientific  aspect,  we  might  as  reasonably  interdict  the 
study  of  electricity  or  the  employment  of  the  magnetic 
wires.  And  as  regards  its  spiritual  pretensions,  either 
these  are  a  perilous  delusion,  to  be  detected  and  exploded, 
as  by  carefully  prosecuted  researches  every  delusion  can 
be,  or  else  a  reality  important  beyond  any  that  crosses 
our  daily  path.  If  they  be  a  delusion,  leading  astray 
the  flock,  on  whom  so  strictly  as  on  its  pastor  devolves 
the  task  of  exposure? — but  of  exposure  after  investiga- 
tion;  since,  in  the  words  of  a  wise  man  of  old,  "He 
that  answereth  a  matter  before  he  heareth  it,  it  is  folly 
and  shame  unto  him."*  If,  on  the  other  hand,  it  should 
prove  to  be  a  reality,  how  grave  their  responsibility  who 
blindly  oppose  it!  In  such  a  case,  research  on  the  part 
of  public  teachers  rises  to  the  rank  of  a  sacred  duty,  lest 
haply,  like  the  unbelievers  of  Gamaliel's  day,  they  be 
found  fighting  against  God. 

And  this  duty  is  bounden  the  rather  because  of  a 
great  difficulty,  suggested  by  the  narratives  forming  the 
staple  of  this  volume,  which  necessarily  attends  the 
policy  of  non-investigation.  There  is  the  question,  how 
far  we  are  to  carry  out  that  policy.  Men,  during  the 
last  ten  years,  and  in  our  country  especially,  have,  in 
this  connection,  had  their  attention  mainly  directed  to 
what,  in  one  sense,  may  be  called  the  artificial  phase  of 
the  subject.  They  have  been  chiefly  occupied  in  exa- 
mining phenomena  which  occur  as  the  result  of  express 
intention  and  calculated  method;  which  are  elicited,  not 
merely  witnessed :  such  as  the  manifestations  which  come 
to  light  through  what  is  called  mediumship,  in  spiritual 
circles,  through  writing  by  impression,  during  artificial 

*  Proverbs  xviiL  13. 


46  HOW   SHALL   WE   DISPOSE 

Bomnambulism,  and  the  like.  These  constitute  but  a 
small  fraction  of  a  great  subject.  They  have  for  the 
most  part  been  called  forth  during  a  few  years  only ; 
while  the  vast  mass  of  phenomena  evidently  allied  to 
them,  but  purely  spontaneous  in  their  character,  are 
spread  over  ages  and  come  to  us  through  all  past  his- 
tory. These  latter  present  themselves  not  merely  un- 
expected, not  unsought  only,  but  often  unwished  for,  de- 
precated, occasionally  even  in  spite  of  entreaty  and 
prayer.  Often,  indeed,  they  assume  the  character  of 
ministration  by  spirits  loving  and  gentle;  but  at  other 
times  they  put  on  the  semblance  of  persecution,  retri- 
butive and  terrible.*  The  former  appear  to  bear  out 
the  doctrine  of  celestial  guardianship,  while  the  latter 
seem  sent  by  God  as  he  sends  on  the  material  world  the 
hurricane  and  the  earthquake.  But  both  are  indepen- 
dent of  man's  will  or  agency.  They  come  as  the  rain 
falls  or  as  the  lightning  flashes. 

This  complicates  the  case.  We  may  condemn  as 
Pythonism,  or  denounce  as  unlawful  necromancy,  the 
seeking  after  spiritual  phenomena.f  But  in  so  doing 
we  dispose  of  a  small  branch  of  the  subject  only.  How 
are  we  to  deal  with  ultramundane  manifestations,  in  case 
it  should  prove  that  they  do  often  occur  not  only  with- 
out our  agency  but  in  spite  of  our  adjuration  ?  Grant 
that  it  were  unwise,  even  sinful,  to  go  in  search  of 
spiritual  intervention :  what  are  we  to  say  of  it  if  it 
overcome  us  sudden  and  unsolicited,  and,  whether  for 

*  See,  as  an  example  of  the  former,  the  narrative  entitled  "The  rejected 
Suitor,"  and,  as  a  specimen  of  the  latter,  that  called  "  What  an  English 
Officer  suffered :"  both  given  in  subsequent  chapters  of  this  work. 

f  In  the  records  of  the  past  we  come,  from  time  to  time,  upon  proof  that 
men  have  been  disposed  to  regard  that  which  they  imperfectly  understood 
as  savoring  of  unhallowed  mystery.  In  Chaucer's  tale  of  the  Chanon 
Yeman,  chemistry  is  spoken  of  as  an  elfish  artj  that  is,  taught  or  conducted 
by  spirits.  This,  Warton  says,  is  an  Arabian  idea.  See  "  Warton't  Hi*' 
iOTff  of  English  Poetry"  vol.  L  p.  169. 


OP   SPONTANEOUS   PHENOMENA?  47 

good  or  for  evil,  a  commissioned  intruder  on  our  earthly 
path  ?  Under  that  phase  also  (if  under  such  it  be  found 
really  to  present  itself)  are  we  to  ignore  its  existence  ? 
Ought  we,  without  any  inquiry  into  the  character  of  its 
influence,  to  prejudge  and  to  repulse  it?  Let  it  assume 
what  form  it  may,  are  we  still,  like  the  Princess  Parizade 
of  the  Arabian  tale,  to  stop  our  ears  with  cotton  against 
the  voices  around  us  ? 

The  abstract  right  to  investigate  the  broad  question 
as  to  the  reality  of  ultramundane  interference  will  not, 
in  these  United  States,  be  seriously  questioned.  There 
never  was  a  period  in  the  world's  history  when  human 
tyranny  could  close,  except  for  a  season,  the  avenue  to 
any  department  of  knowledge  which  the  Creator  has 
placed  within  the  reach  of  man ;  least  of  all,  one  involv- 
ing interests  so  vital  as  this.  Nor  is  there  any  country 
in  the  civilized  world  where  the  attempt  could  be  made 
with  less  chance  of  success  than  in  ours. 

Many,  however,  who  concede  the  right  deem  its  exer- 
cise to  be  fraught  with  danger  to  human  welfare  and 
happiness.  Some  danger,  beyond  question,  there  is. 
What  thing  in  nature  is  one-sided?  Which  of  our 
studies  may  not  be  injudiciously  undertaken  or  im- 
prudently pursued?  Something,  in  all  human  endea- 
vors, we  must  risk;  and  that  risk  is  the  greatest, 
usually,  for  the  most  important  objects.  Eeligious  re- 
searches involve  more  risk  than  secular :  they  demand, 
therefore,  greater  caution  and  a  more  dispassionate 
spirit.  Are  we  to  avoid  them  for  that  reason  ?  Would 
their  interdiction  subserve  man's  welfare  and  happiness  ? 

That  theory  of  the  solar  system  which  is  now  ad- 
mitted by  every  astronomer  and  taught  to  every  school- 
boy was  once  alleged  to  be  fraught  with  danger  to  the 
welfare  and  happiness  of  mankind,  and  its  author  was 
compelled  on  his  knees  to  pledge  his  oath  that  he  would 
never  more  propagate  it,  by  word  or  writing.   Yet  what 


48  COURAGE   AND   IMPARTIALITY 

scientific  hypothesis  do  men  at  the  present  day  scruple 
to  examine  ?  And,  if  scientific,  why  not  spiritual  also  ? 
Are  we  prepared  to  trust  our  reason  in  the  one  case  but 
reject  its  conclusions  in  the  other? — to  declare  of  that 
noble  faculty,  as  a  German  caviler  did  of  the  telescope 
which  first  revealed  to  human  sight  the  satellites  of 
Jupiter,  that  "  it  does  wonders  on  the  earth,  but  falsely 
represents  celestial  objects"  ?* 

Let  us  take  courage,  and  trust  to  the  senses  God  has 
given  us.  There  is  no  safety  in  cowardice,  no  expe- 
diency, even  if  there  were  possibility,  in  evasion.  If  to 
the  investigation  of  these  matters  we  must  come 
sooner  or  later,  it  is  the  part  of  wisdom  and  manliness 
to  undertake  it  at  once. 

A  large  portion  of  the  periodicals  of  the  day  have 
hitherto  either  wholly  ignored  the  subject  of  ultramun- 
dane interference,  or  else  passed  it  by  with  superficial 
and  disparaging  notice.  After  a  time  there  will  be  a 
change   in  this.f    The   subject  is  gradually  attaining 

*  Martin  Korky,  in  one  of  the  "Kepleri  Epistolse."  He  it  was  who  de- 
clared to  his  master  Kepler,  "I  will  never  concede  his  four  planets  to  that 
Italian  from  Padua,  though  I  die  for  it,"  and  of  whom,  when  he  afterward 
begged  to  be  forgiven  for  his  presumptuous  skepticism,  Kepler  wrote  to 
Galileo,  "I  have  taken  him  again  into  favor  upon  this  express  condition, 
lo  which  he  has  agreed,  that  I  am  to  show  him  Jupiter's  satellites,  and  he 
ts  to  see  them  and  own  that  they  are  there." 

There  are  a  good  many  Martin  Korkys  of  the  present  day,  with  whom, 
AS  to  some  of  the  phenomena  to  be  noticed  in  this  volume,  the  same  agree- 
ment should  be  made. 

f  Respectable  periodicals,  untinctured  by  peculiarities  of  opinion,  have 
already  begun  to  treat  the  general  subject  with  more  deference  than  for- 
merly. For  example,  in  a  long  article,  entitled  "  Ghosts  of  the  Old  aua 
New  School,"  in  one  of  the  London  Quarterlies,  while  the  chief  phenomena 
called  spiritual  are  discredited,  there  occur  such  admissions  as  the  follow- 
ing:— "There  are  sets  of  facts  that  demand  a  more  searching  and  perse- 
vering investigation  than  they  have  yet  received, — either  that  they  may  be 
finally  disposed  of  as  false,  or  reduced  to  scientific  order.  Such  are  the  ap- 
pearance of  ghosts,  the  power  of  second- sight,  of  clairvojance,  and  other 


THE   CHIEF   REQUISITES.  49 

a  breadth  and  importance  and  winning  a  degree  of 
attention  which  will  be  felt  by  the  better  portion  of  the 
pres8  as  entitling  it  to  that  respectful  notice  which  is 
the  due  of  a  reputable  opponent.  And  surely  this  is  as 
it  should  be.  Let  the  facts  be  as  they  may,  the  duty  ol 
the  press  and  of  the  pulpit  is  best  fulfilled,  and  the 
dangers  incident  to  the  subject  are  best  averted,  by 
promoting,  not  discouraging,  inquiry;*  but  inquiry, 
thorough,  searching,  sedulously  accurate,  and  in  the 
strictest  sense  of  the  term  impartial. 

The  first  requisite  in  him  who  undertakes  such  an  in- 
vestigation— more  important,  even,  than  scientific  train- 
ing to  accurate  research — is  that  he  shall  approach  it 
unbiased  and  unpledged,  bringing  with  him  no  favorite 
theory  to  be  built  up,  no  preconceived  opinions  to  be 
gratified  or  oifended,  not  a  wish  that  the  results  should 
be  found  to  be  of  this  character  or  of  that  character, 
out  a  single,  earnest  desire  to  discover  of  what  character 
they  are. 

To  what  extent  I  bring  to  the  task  such  qualifications, 
they  who  may  read  these  pages  can  best  decide.  No 
man  is  an  impartial  judge  of  his  own  impartiality.  I 
distrust  mine.  I  am  conscious  of  a  disturbing  element; 
a  leaning  in  my  mind,  aside  from  the  simple  wish  tc» 
detect  what  really  is.  Not  that  on  the  strictest  self- 
scrutiny  I  can  accuse  myself  of  a  desire  to  foist  into 
such  an  inquiry  any  preconceptions,  scientific  or  theolo- 

phenomena  of  magnetism  and  mesmeriam;  the  natare  of  sleep  and  dreams, 
of  spectral  illusions,  (in  themselves  a  decisive  proof  that  the  sAse  of  sight 
may  be  fully  experienced  independently  of  the  eye;)  the  limits  and  work- 
ing of  mental  delusion  and  enthusiastic  excitement" — National  Review  for 
July,  1858,  p.  13. 

•  "  Eclairons-nous  sar  les  v^rit^s,  quelles  qu'elles  soient,  qui  ee  pr^scntent 
i  notre  observation  :  et  loin  de  craindre  de  favoriser  la  superstition  en  ad- 
mettant  do  nouveaux  ph^nom^nes,  quand  ils  sont  bien  prouv6s,  soyona 
persuades  que  le  seul  moyen  d'emp^cher  les  abus  qu'on  peut  en  faiio,  c'est 
J'en  r6p«ndre  la  connaissance." — Bertrand. 
D  6 


$0  A   BESETTING    TEMPTATION. 

gicaly  nor  yet  of  the  least  unwillingness  to  accept  or  to 
surrender  any  opinions,  orthodox  or  heterodox,  which 
the  progress  of  that  inquiry  might  establish  or  disprove. 
Not  tiiat.  But  I  am  conscious  of  a  feeling  that  has 
acquired  strength  within  me  as  these  researches  pro- 
gressed; a  desire  other  than  the  mere  readiness  to 
inspect  with  dispassionate  equanimity  the  phenomena 
as  they  appeared;  an  earnest  hope,  namely,  that  thesf 
might  result  in  furnishing  to  the  evidence  of  the  soul's 
independent  existence  and  immortality  a  contribution 
drawn  from  a  source  where  such  proof  has  seldom,  until 
recently,  been  sought. 

Against  the  leaning  incident  to  that  hope,  interwoven 
with  man's  nature  as  it  is,  the  explorer  of  such  a  field 
as  this  should  be  especially  on  his  guard.  It  is  one 
of  the  many  difficulties  with  which  the  undertaking  is 
beset.  "  It  is  easy,"  truly  said  Bonnet,  the  learned 
Genevese, — "it  is  easy  and  agreeable  to  believe;  to 
doubt  requires  an  unpleasant  effort."  And  the  pro- 
clivity to  conclude  on  insufficient  evidence  is  the 
greater  when  we  are  in  search  of  what  we  strongly 
wish  to  find.  Our  longings  overhurry  our  judgments. 
But  what  so  earnestly  to  be  desired  as  the  assurance 
that  death,  the  much  dreaded,  is  a  friend  instead  of  an 
enemy,  opening  to  us,  when  the  dark  curtain  closes 
on  earthly  scenes,  the  portals  of  a  better  and  happier 
existence  ? 

It  is  a  common  opinion  that  the  all-sufficient  and 
only  proper  source  whence  to  derive  that  conviction  is 
sacred  history. 

But,  how  strongly  soever  we  may  affirm  that  the 
Scripture  proofs  of  the  soul's  immortality  ought  to  com- 
mand the  belief  of  all  mankind,  the  fact  remains  that 
they  do  not.*    Some  rest  unbelievers;  many  more  carry 

•  The  number  of  materialists  throughout  the  educated  portion  of  virilized 


FEEBLE    BELIEF.  51 

about  with  them,  as  to  the  sours  future  destiny,  a  faith 
inanimate  and  barren;  and,  oven  among  those  who  pro- 
fees  the  most,  the  creed  of  the  greater  number  may  be 
summed  up  in  the  exclamation,  "Lord,  1  believe:  help 
Thou  mine  unbelief!"* 

Since,  then,  no  complaint  is  more  common  from  the 
pulpit  itself  than  of  the  world-wide  discrepancy  daily  to 
bo  found,  even  among  the  most  zealously  pious,  between 
iaith  and  practice,  may  we  not  trace  much  of  that 
discrepancy  to  the  feeble  grade  of  credence,  so  far  below 
the  living  conviction  which  our  senses  bring  home  to 
us  of  earthly  things,  which  often  makes  up  this  wavering 
faith  ?t 


society,  especially  in  Europe,  is  much  greater  than  on  the  surface  it  would 
appear.  If  one  broaches  serious  subjects,  this  fact  betrays  itself.  I  was 
conversing  one  day  with  a  French  lady  of  rank,  intelligent  and  thoughtful 
beyond  the  average  of  her  class,  and  happened  to  express  the  opinion  that 
progression  is  probably  a  law  of  the  next  world,  as  of  this.  "  You  really 
believe,  then,  in  another  world?"  she  asked. 

"  Certainly,  Madame  la  Comtesse." 

"  Ah  !  you  are  a  fortunate  man,"  she  replied,  with  some  emotion.  "  How 
many  of  us  do  not!" 

♦  We  shall  often  find,  in  the  expressions  employed  by  distinguished  men 
(especially  the  leaders  in  science)  to  express  their  sense  of  the  importance 
of  a  firm  religious  belief,  rather  a  desire  to  obtain  it,  and  envy  of  those  who 
possess  it,  than  an  assertion  that  they  themselves  have  found  all  they 
sought.     Here  is  an  eloquent  example : — 

"  I  envy  no  qualities  of  the  mind  and  intellect  in  others, — nor  genius,  nor 
power,  nor  wit,  nor  fancy;  but  if  I  could  choose  what  would  be  most  de- 
lightful and,  I  believe,  most  useful  to  me,  I  should  prefer  a  firm  religious 
belief  to  every  other  blessing.  For  it  makes  life  a  discipline  of  goodness, 
creates  new  hopes  when  all  earthly  hopes  vanish,  and  throws  over  the 
decay,  the  destruction,  of  existence,  the  most  gorgeous  of  all  lights; 
awakens  life  in  death,  and  calls  out  from  corruption  and  decay  beauty 
an  1  everlasting  glory." — Sir  Humphrt  Davy. 

1^  One  among  a  thousand  illustrations  of  this  discrepancy  is  to  be  found 
iij  the  bitter  anguish — the  grief  refusing  to  be  comforted — with  which  sur- 
vivors often  bewail  the  dead ;  a  grief  infinitely  more  poignant  than  that 
with  which  they  would  see  them  embark  for  another  hemisphere,  if  it  were 
even  without  expectation  of  their  return  and  with  no  certainty  of  tbeiz 


52  CAUSES   OF   SKEPTICISM. 

It  is  important  also  to  distinguish  among  those  who 
go  by  the  general  name  of  unbelievers.  Of  these,  a 
few  deny  that  man  has  an  immortal  soul;  others  allege 
that  they  have  as  yet  found  no  conclusive  proof  of  the 
soul's  ultramundane  existence:  and  the  latter  are  much 
more  numerous  than  the  former. 

The  difference  between  the  two  is  great.  The  creed 
of  the  one  may  be  taxed  with  presumption,  of  the  other 
with  insufficiency  only.  The  one  profess  already  to 
have  reached  the  goal;  the  others  declare  that  they  are 
still  on  the  road  of  inquiry. 

But  as  to  these  latter,  any  additional  class  of  proofs 
we  can  find  touching  the  nature  of  the  soul  are  espe- 
cially important.  Here  we  come  upon  the  practical 
bearings  of  the  question.  For,  while  men  are  so 
diversely  constituted  and  so  variously  trained  as  we  find 
them,  the  same  evidence  will  never  convince  all  minds. 
And  it  is   equally  unchristian,*  unphilosophical,  and 

happiness.  If  we  do  not  forget,  do  we  practically  realize,  that  article  of 
faith  which  teaches  that  it  is  only  to  us  they  die  ?  The  German  idiomatic 
expression,  in  this  connection,  is  as  correct  as  it  is  heautiful : — 

"  Den  Oberlin  hatte  zuweilen  die  Ahnung  wie  ein  kalter  Schauer  durch- 
drungen,  dass  sein  geliebtes  Weib  thm  sterben  konne." — "Dasgroaae  Geheitn- 
nis«  der  menschlichen  JDoppelnatur,"  Dresden,  1855. 

*  Matthew  viL  1.  It  is  quite  contrary  to  the  fact  to  assume  as  to  skeptics 
in  general  that  they  are  willfully  blind.  Many,  it  is  true,  especially  in  the 
heyday  of  youth,  fall  into  unbelief,  or  an  indifiFerenco  much  resembling  it, 
from  sheer  heedlessness;  while  some  deliberately  avoid  the  thoughts  of 
another  world,  lest  these  should  abridge  their  pleasures  in  this;  but  the 
better  and  probably  the  more  numerous  portion  belong  to  neither  of  these 
classes.  They  scruple  because  difficulties  are  thrust  upon  them.  They 
doubt  unwillingly  and  perforce.  The  author  of  the  "Eclipse  of  Faith" 
/written  in  reply  to  Newman's  "Phases  of  Faith")  gives,  as  the  confession 
of  such  a  one,  what  is  appropriate  to  hundreds  of  thousands : — 

"I  have  been  rudely  driven  out  of  my  old  beliefs;  my  early  Christian 
faith  has  given  way  to  doubt;  the  little  hut  on  the  mountain-side,  in  which 
I  had  thought  to  dwell  with  pastoral  simplicity,  has  been  shattered  by  the 
tempest,  and  I  turned  out  to  the  blast  without  a  shelter.  I  have  wandered 
long  and  far,  but  have  not  found  that  rest  which  you  tell  m«  is  lo  be  ob- 


GEORGET.  6% 

unjust  to  condemn  one's  neighbor,  because  the  species 
of  testimony  which  convinces  us  leaves  him  in  doubt  or 
disbelief.  Shall  we  imagine  a  just  God  joining  in  such 
a  condemnation  ?  Or  may  we  not,  far  more  rationally, 
believe  it  probable  that,  in  the  progressive  course  of  His 
economy,  He  may  be  providing  for  each  class  of  minds 
that  species  of  evidence  which  is  best  fitted  for  its  pecu- 
liar nature  ? 

A  Paris  physician  of  the  highest  standing,  Dr. 
Georget,  the  well-known  author  of  a  Treatise  on  the 
Physiology  of  the  Nervous  System,*  made  his  will  on 
the  Ist  of  March,  1826,  dying  shortly  after.  To  that 
document  a  clause  is  appended,  in  which,  after  alluding 
to  the  fact  that  in  the  treatise  above  referred  to  he  had 


tained.  As  I  examine  all  other  theories,  they  seem  to  me  pressed  by  at 
least  equal  difficulties  with  that  I  have  abandoned.  I  cannot  make  myself 
contented,  as  others  do,  with  believing  nothing;  and  yet  I  have  nothing  to 
believe.  I  have  wrestled  long  and  hard  with  my  Titan  foes,  but  not  suc- 
cessfully. I  have  turned  to  every  quarter  of  the  universe  in  vain.  I  have 
interrogated  my  own  soul,  but  it  answers  not  I  have  gazed  upon  nature, 
but  its  many  voices  speak  no  articulate  language  to  me;  and,  more  espe- 
cially, when  I  gaze  upon  the  bright  page  of  the  midnight  heavens,  those 
orbs  gleam  upon  me  with  so  cold  a  light  and  amidst  so  portentous  a  silence 
that  I  am,  with  Pascal,  terrified  at  the  spectacle  of  the  infinite  solitude." 
—p.  70. 

***  De  la  Pkytiologie  du  SytiirM  Nerveux,  et  apiciaUment  du  Oerveetu.** 
Par  M.  Georget,  D.  M.  de  la  Faculty  de  Paris,  anoien  Interne  de  premidro 
classe  de  la  division  des  Ali6n^es  de  I'Hospice  de  la  Salpetri^re :  2  vols., 
Paris,  1821. 

The  original  text  of  the  clause  in  Georget's  will,  above  quoted  from,  will 
be  found  in  "  Rapports  et  Diacuationn  de  VAcademie  Royale  de  Mldeeine  mr 
le  Magnetisme  animal,"  by  M.  P.  Foissac,  M.D.,  Paris,  1833,  p.  289.  The 
exact  words  of  his  avowal  are,  **  A  peine  avais-je  mis  au  jour  la  *  Physiologie 
du  SystSme  Nerveux/  que  de  nouvelles  meditations  sur  un  ph^nomdno  bien 
extraordinaire,  lo  somnambulisme,  ne  me  permirent  plus  de  douter  de  I'ex- 
istence,  en  nous  et  hors  de  nous,  d'un  principe  intelligent,  tout-^-fait  dif- 
i^rent  des  existences  materielles." 

Uusson,  a  member  of  the  Paris  Academy  of  Medicine,  in  a  report  to  that 
body  made  in  1825,  speaks  of  Georget  as  "  notre  estimable,  laborieux,  et 
modote  collogue." — Fot$tac'i  Rapporta  «t  Dtacuaaiorta,  p.  28. 
5* 


M  THE   STRONGEST   EVIDENCE 

openly  professed  materialism,  he  says,  "  I  had  scarcely 
published  the  ^  Physiologie  du  Systeme  Nerveux,'  when  ' 
additional  reflections  on  a  very  extraordinary  phe- 
nomenon, somnambulism,  no  longer  allowed  me  to 
doubt  of  the  existence,  in  us  and  out  of  us,  of  an  intelli- 
gent principle,  differing  entirely  from  any  material  ex- 
istence." He  adds,  "  This  declaration  will  see  the 
light  when  my  sincerity  can  no  longer  be  doubted  nor 
my  intentions  suspected."  And  he  concludes  by  an 
earnest  request,  addressed  to  those  who  may  be  present 
at  the  opening  of  his  will,  that  they  will  give  to  the 
declaration  in  question  all  the  publicity  possible. 

Thus  we  find  an  able  man,  living  in  a  Christian  coun- 
try, where  he  had  access  to  all  the  usual  evidences  of 
our  religion,  who  remains  during  the  greater  part  of  his 
life  a  materialist,  and  toward  its  close  finds,  in  a 
psychological  phenomenon,  proof  sufiicient  to  produce 
a  profound  conviction  that  his  life's  belief  had  been  ac 
error,  and  that  the  soul  of  man  has  an  immortal  ex- 
istence. 

The  Bible  had  failed  to  convince  him  of  his  error. 
But  ought  not  every  believer  in  the  soul's  immortality 
to  rejoice,  that  the  unbelief  which  scriptural  testimony 
had  proved  insufficient  to  conquer  yielded  before  evi- 
dence drawn  from  examination  of  one  of  the  many 
wonders,  exhibited  by  what  every  one  but  the  atheist 
declares  to  be  the  handiwork  of  God? 

And  since  that  wonder  belongs  to  a  class  of  phenomena 
t.  e  reality  of  which  is  denied  by  many  and  doubted  by 
m  \re,  should  not  every  friend  of  religion  bid  God-speed 
the  inquirer  who  pushes  his  researches  into  regions  that 
have  produced  fruits  so  valuable  as  these? 

Nor  is  he  a  true  friend  to  religion  or  to  his  race  who 
does  not  desire  that  men  should  obtain  the  strongest 
possible  evidence  which  exists  of  the  soul's  immortality, 
and  the  reality  of  a  future  life.     But  if  there  actually 


IS   THAT   OF   SENSE.  55 

be  physical  evidence,  cognizable  by  the  senses,  of  these 
great  truths,  it  is,  and  ever  must  be,  stronger  than  any 
which  can  possibly  result  from  scriptural  testimony. 
Intelligent  Christians,  even  the  most  orthodox,  admit 
this  J  Tillotson,  for  example.  It  forms,  indeed,  the 
staple  of  his  argument  against  the  real  presence.  Says 
that  learned  prelate,  "  Infidelity  were  hardly  possible  to 
men,  if  all  men  had  the  same  evidence  for  the  Chris- 
tian religion  which  they  have  against  ti'ansubstan- 
tiation;  that  is,  the  clear  and  irresistible  evidence  of 
sense."* 

Scripture  and  common  sense  alike  sustain  this  doc- 
trine; nay,  our  every-day  language  assumes  its  truth. 
If  a  friend,  even  the  most  trusted,  relate  to  us  some 
incident  which  he  has  witnessed,  in  what  terms  do  we 
express  our  conviction  that  he  has  told  us  the  truth? 
Do  we  say,  "I  know  his  testimony"?  There  is  no  such 
expression  in  the  English  language.  We  say,  "I  believe 
his  testimony ."f  It  is  true  that  such  evidence,  subject, 
however,  to  cross-examination,  decides,  in  a  court  of  jus- 
tice, men's  lives  and  fortunes ;  but  only  from  the  neces- 
sity of  the  case  j  only  because  the  judges  and  jury  could 
not  themselves  bo  eye  or  ear  witnesses  of  the  facts  to 
bo  proved  :  and,  with  every  care  to  scrutinize  such  testi- 
mony, it  has  ere  now  brought  innocent  men  to  the  scaf- 
fold.    Nor,  save  in  extraordinary  or  exceptional  cases, 

*  "  The  Works  of  the  Moat  Reverend  Dr.  John  Ttllotton,  late  Lord  Arch- 
bithop  of  Canterbury,"  8th  ed.,  London,  1720.     Sermon  XXVL 

f  In  the  present  volume  I  shall  have  occasion  to  testify  as  to  many  things 
which  I  have  heard  and  seen.  Nor  do  I  imagine  that  men,  themselves 
candid,  will  suspect  in  me  lack  of  candor ;  for  when  a  man  of  honest  motive, 
seeking  only  the  truth,  plainly  and  impartially  narrates  his  experience,  that 
which  he  says  usually  bears  with  it  to  the  upright  mind  an  internal  war- 
rant of  sincerity.  But  yet  my  testimony  is,  and  ever  must  be,  to  the  reader, 
evidence  of  far  lower  grade  and  far  less  force  than  that  he  would  have  ob- 
tained if  he  had  himself  personally  witnessed  what  I  narrate  The  differ- 
ence is  inherent  in  the  nature  of  things. 


f6  SOME   TRUTHS   APPFJLL 

iS  it  under  our  system  ever  taken  in  court  at  second 
hand.*  And  when  a  witness  begins  to  repeat  that  which 
others  have  seen  and  related,  what  is  the  common  phrase 
employed  to  recall  him  to  his  proper  sphere  of  duty? 
— "  Do  not  tell  us  what  others  have  said  to  you :  keep  to 
what  you  can  depose  of  your  own  knowledge'* 

So,  also,  when  in  Scripture  reference  is  made  to  per- 
sons having  faith  or  lacking  it,  how  are  they  designated? 
As  knowers  and  unknowersf  No:  but  as  believers  and 
unbelievers.  "He  that  believeth" — not  he  that  knoweth 
— "shall  be  saved/'  As  to  things  spiritual  the  Bible 
(with  rare  exceptions)  speaks  of  our  belief  on  this  side 
the  grave,  our  knowledge  only  on  the  other.  "Then 
shall  we  know,  even  as  also  we  are  known.'* 

But  to  argue  at  length  such  a  point  as  this  is  mere 
supererogation.  There  are  some  truths  the  evidence 
for  which  no  argument  can  strengthen,  because  they 
appeal  directly  to  our  consciousness  and  are  adopted 
unchallenged  and  at  once.  A  pious  mother  loses  her 
child, — though  the  very  phrase  is  a  falsi tj'^ :  she  but  parts 
with  him  for  a  season, — but,  in  the  world's  language 
and  in  her  heart's  language,  she  loses  her  only  child  by 
death.  If,  now,  just  when  her  bereavement  is  felt  the 
most  despairingly, — in  the  bitter  moment,  perhaps,  (the 
wmter's  storm  raging  without,)  when  the  thought  flashes 
across  her  that  the  cold  sleet  is  beating  on  her  deserted 
darling's  new-made  grave;  if  in  that  terrible  moment 
there  should  reach  her  suddenly,  unexpectedly,  a  token 
visible  to  the  senses,  an  appearance  in  bodily  form,  or 

♦  I  speak  of  the  principles  of  evidence  recognized  by  the  common  law;  a 
system  under  which  personal  rights  and  guards  to  the  liberty  of  the  citizen 
are  probably  better  assured  than  under  any  other ;  though  as  to  some  righti 
of  property  the  civil  law  system  may  claim  the  superiority. 

Evidence  at  second  hand  is  admissible  in  the  case  of  a  dying  man 
conscious  of  the  near  approach  of  death,  or  as  to  what  has  been  said,  un 
contradicted,  in  the  presence  and  within  the  hearing  of  a  prisoner;  bo 
thege  are  the  exceptions  establishing  the  general  rule. 


DIRECTLY  TO   OUR  CONSCIOUSNESS.  57 

an  actual  message  perhaps,  which  she  knew  came  thaft 
instant  direct  from  her  child;  that  appearance  or  that 
message  testifying  that  he  whom  she  had  just  heec 
thinking  of  as  lying,  wrested  from  her  loving  care, 
under  the  storm-beaten  turf,  was  not  there,  was  far 
happier  than  even  she  had  ever  made  him,  was  far  better 
cared  for  than  even  in  her  arms :  in  such  a  moment  as 
that,  how  poor  and  worthless  are  all  the  arts  of  logic  to 
prove  that  the  sunshine  of  such  unlooked-for  assurance, 
breaking  through  the  gloomy  tempest  of  the  mother's 
grief,  and  lighting  up  her  shrouded  hopes,  has  added 
nothing  to  the  measure  of  her  belief  in  immortality,  has 
increased  not  the  force  of  her  convictions  touching  the 
Great  Future,  has  raised  not  from  faith  to  knowledge 
the  degree  of  credence  with  which  she  can  repeat  to  her 
soul  the  inspiring  words,  that,  though  the  dust  has  re- 
turned to  the  earth  as  it  was,  the  spirit  »s  in  the  hands 
of  God  who  gave  it  I 

Then,  if  it  should  happen  that  the  "unknown  Bark" 
may,  in  a  measure,  even  here  become  known ;  if  it  should 
be  that  the  Great  Dramatist  inaptly  des^nbed  the  next 
world,  when  he  called  it 

"  The  undiscovered  country,  from  whose  boH»« 
No  traveler  returns;" 

if  it  should  prove  true  that  occasions  sometimes  present 
themselves  when  we  have  the  direct  evidence  of  our 
senses  to  demonstrate  the  continued  existenofi  and  affec- 
tion of  those  friends  who  have  passed  that  bourn;  if  it 
should  be  the  will  of  God  that,  at  this  stage  of  man's 
constant  progress,  more  clearly  distinguishing  pheno- 
mena which,  in  modem  times  at  least,  have  been  usually 
discredited  or  denied,  he  should  attain  a  point  at  which 
Relief,  the  highest  species  of  conviction  which  Scnpture 
or  analogy  can  supply,  may  rise  to  the  grade  of  Know- 
ledge;— if  all  this  be,  in  very  deed,  a  Reality ,  is  it  not  a 


68  A   SEVERE  TEST  APPLIED 

glorious  one,  earnestly  to  be  desired,  gratefully  to  bo 
welcomed? 

And  should  not  those  who,  with  a  single  eye  to  the 
truth,  faithfully  and  patiently  question  Nature,  to  dis- 
cover whether  it  is  Eeality  or  Illusion, — should  not 
such  honest  and  earnest  investigators  be  cheered  on 
their  path,  be  commended  for  their  exertions?  If  it  be 
a  sacred  and  solemn  duty  to  study  the  Scriptures  in 
search  of  religious  belief,  is  it  a  duty  less  sacred,  less 
solemn,  to  study  Nature  in  search  of  religious  know- 
ledge? 

In  prosecuting  that  research,  if  any  fear  to  sin  by 
overpassing  the  limits  of  permitted  inquiry  and  tres- 
passing upon  unholy  and  forbidden  ground,  let  him  be 
reminded  that  God,  who  protects  His  own  mysteries, 
has  rendered  that  sin  impossible;  and  let  him  go,  reve- 
rently indeed,  but  freely  and  undoubtingly,  forward. 
If  God  has  closed  the  way,  man  cannot  pass  thereon. 
But  if  He  has  left  open  the  path,  who  shall  forbid  its 
entrance  ? 

It  is  good  to  take  with  us  through  life,  as  companion, 
a  great  and  encouraging  subject;  and  of  this  we  feel  the 
need  the  more  as  we  advance  in  years.  As  to  that 
which  I  have  selected,  eminently  true  is  the  happy  ex- 
pression of  a  modern  writer,  that  "in  journeying  with 
it  we  go  toward  the  sun,  and  the  shadow  of  our  burden 
falls  behind  us."* 

Some  one  has  suggested  that,  if  we  would  truly  deter- 
mine whether,  at  any  given  time,  we  are  occupying 
ourselves  after  a  manner  worthy  of  rational  and  im- 
mortal beings,  it  behooves  us  to  ask  our  hearts  if  we  are 
willing  death  should  surprise  us  in  the  occupation. 
There  is  no  severer  test.  And  if  we  apply  it  to  such 
researches  as  these,  how  clearly  stands  forth  their  high 

•  "Esaai/s  written  during  the  Intervals  of  Btmness,"  London,  1863,  p.  2. 


TO  THE  SUBJECT  SELECTED  59 

(jharacterl  If,  in  prosecuting  such,  the  observer  be 
overtaken  by  death,  the  destroyer  has  no  power  to 
arrest  his  observations.  The  fatal  fiat  but  extends  their 
field.  The  torch  is  not  quenched  in  the  grave.  It 
burns  far  more  brightly  beyond  than  ever  it  did  or 
can  in  this  dim  world  of  ours.  Here  the  inquirer  may 
grope  and  stumble,  seeing  but  as  through  a  glass  darkly. 
Death,  that  has  delivered  so  many  millions  from  misery, 
will  dispel  his  doubts  and  resolve  his  difficulties.  Death, 
the  unriddler,  will  draw  aside  the  curtain  and  let  in  the 
explaining  light.  That  which  is  feebly  commenced  in 
this  phase  of  existence  will  be  far  better  prosecuted  in 
another.  Will  the  inquiry  be  completed  even  there? 
Who  can  tell? 


CHAPTEE  il. 

THE   IMPOSSIBLE. 

"He  who,  outside  of  pure  mathematics,  pronounces  the  word  impo»nhU, 
lueks  prudence/' — Arago:  Annuaire  du  Bureau  dea  Longitudes,  1853.* 

There  was  enacted,  in  April  of  the  year  1493,  and  in 
the  city  of  Barcelona,  one  of  those  great  scenes  which 
occur  but  a  few  times  in  the  history  of  our  race. 

A  Genoese  mariner,  of  humble  birth  and  fortune,  an 
enthusiast,  a  dreamer,  a  believer  in  Marco  Polo  and 
Mandeville  and  in  all  their  gorgeous  fables, — ^the  golden 
shores  of  Zipango,  the  spicy  paradise  of  Cathay, — had 
conceived  the  magnificent  project  of  seeking  out  what 
proved  to  be  an  addition  to  the  known  world  of  another 
hemisphere. 

He  had  gone  begging  from  country  to  country,  from 
monarch  to  monarch,  for  countenance  and  means.  His 
proposals  rejected  by  his  native  city,  he  had  carried 
them  to  Spain,  then  governed  by  two  of  the  ablest 
sovereigns  she  ever  had.  But  there  the  usual  fortune 
of  the  theorist  seemed  to  pursue  him.  His  best  pro- 
tector the  humble  guardian  of  an  Andalusian  convent, 
his  doctrine  rejected  by  the  queen's  confessor  as  savor- 
ing of  heresy,  his  lofty  pretensions  scouted  by  nobles 
and  archbishops  as  those  of  a  needy  foreign  adventurer, 
his  scheme  pronounced  by  the  learned  magnates  of  the 

♦  The  original,  with  its  context,  is,  "Le  doute  est  une  preuve  de  modestie, 
et  il  a  rarement  nui  aux  progrds  des  sciences.  On  n'en  pourrait  pas  dire 
autant  de  I'incriduliti.  Celui  qui,  en  dehors  des  mathfimatiques  pures, 
prononce  le  mot  impot^ihle,  manque  de  prudence.  La  reserve  est  surtout 
an  devoir  quand  il  s'agit  de  I'organisation  animale." — Annuair':,  p.  445. 
60 


COLUMBUS   IN   BARCELONA.  61 

Salamancu  council  (for  when  was  titled  Science  ever  a 
pioneer?)  to  be  "vain,  impracticable,  and  resting  on 
grounds  too  weak  to  merit  the  support  of  the  govern- 
ment,"— he  had  scantily  found  at  last,  even  in  the  en- 
lightened and  enterprising  Isabella,  tardy  faith  enough  to 
adventure  a  sum  that  any  lady  of  her  court  might  have 
spent  on  a  diamond  bracelet  or  a  necklace  of  pearl.* 

And  now,  returned  as  it  were  from  the  dead,  survivor 
of  a  voyage  overhung  with  preternatural  horrors,  his 
great  problem,  as  in  despite  of  man  and  nature,  tri- 
umphantly resolved,  the  visionary  was  welcomed  as 
the  conqueror;  the  needy  adventurer  was  recognized  as 
Admiral  of  the  Western  Ocean  and  Viceroy  of  a  New 
Continent;  was  received,  in  solemn  state,  by  the  haugh- 
tiest sovereigns  in  the  world,  rising  at  his  approach, 
and  invited  (Castilian  punctilio  overcome  by  intellectual 
power)  to  be  seated  before  them.  He  told  his  wondrous 
story,  and  exhibited,  as  vouchers  for  its  truth,  the 
tawny  savages  and  the  barbaric  gold.  King,  queen,  and 
court  sunk  on  their  knees;  and  the  Te  Deum  sounded, 
as  for  some  glorious  victory. 

That  night,  in  the  silence  of  his  chamber,  what 
thoughts  may  have  thronged  on  Columbus's  mind! 
What  exultant  emotions  must  have  swelled  his  heart! 
A  past  world  had  deemed  the  Eastern  Hemisphere  the 
entire  habitable  earth.  Age  had  succeeded  to  age,  cen- 
tury had  passed  away  after  century,  and  still  the  inter- 
diet  had  been  acquiesced  in,  that  westward  beyond  the 
mountain   pillarsf  it  belonged  not  to  man  to  explore. 

*  Seventeen  thousand  florins  was  the  petty  amount  which  the  fitting-out 
of  Columbus's  first  expedition  cost  the  crown  of  Castile.  How  incommen- 
ipurate,  sometimes,  are  even  our  successful  exertions  with  the  importaac* 
of  some  noble  but  novel  object  of  research ! 

t  quella  foce  stretta 

Ov*  Ercole  segnd  li  suoi  riguardi, 
Aociochi  I'nom  piil  oltre  non  si  metta. 

Dante,  Inferno,  Canto  XVL 
6 


62  THE   MARVEL   OP   MARVELa 

And  j&c  he,  the  chosen  of  God  to  solve  the  greatest  of 
terrestrial  mysteries,  affronting  what  even  the  hardy 
mariners  of  Palos  had  regarded  as  certain  destruction, — 
he,  the  hopeful  one  where  all  but  himself  despaired, 
— had  wrested  from  the  Deep  its  mighty  secret, — had 
accomplished  what  the  united  voice  of  the  Past  had 
declared  to  be  an  impossible  achievement. 

But  now,  if,  in  the  stillness  of  that  night,  to  this 
man,  enthusiast,  dreamer,  believer  as  he  was,  there  had 
suddenly  appeared  some  Nostradamus  of  the  fifteenth 
century,  of  prophetic  mind  instinct  with  the  future,  and 
had  declared  to  the  ocean-compeller  that  not  four  cen- 
turies would  elapse  before  that  vast  intervening  gulf 
of  waters — from  the  farther  shore  of  which,  through 
months  of  tempest,  he  had  just  groped  back  his  weary 
way — should  interpose  no  obstacle  to  the  free  communi- 
cation of  human  thought;  that  a  man  standing  on  the 
western  shore  of  Europe  should,  within  three  hundred 
and  seventy  years  from  that  day,  engage  in  conversation 
with  his  fellow  standing  on  the  eastern  shore  of  the  new- 
found world;  nay, — marvel  of  all  marvels! — that  the 
same  fearful  bolt  which  during  his  terrible  voyage  had 
80  often  lighted  up  the  waste  of  waters  around  him 
should  itself  become  the  agent  of  communication  across 
that  storm-tossed  ocean;  that  mortal  creatures,  un- 
aided by  angel  or  demon,  without  intervention  of 
Heaven  or  pact  with  hell,  should  bring  that  lightning 
under  domestic  subjection,  and  employ  it,  as  they  might 
some  menial  or  some  carrier-dove,  to  bear  their  daily 
messages; — to  a  prediction  so  wildly  extravagant,  so 
surpassingly  absurd,  as  that,  what  credence  could  even 
Columbus  lend  ?  What  answer  to  such  a  prophetic 
vision  may  we  imagine  that  he,  with  all  a  life's  expe- 
rience of  man's  short-sightedness,  would  have  given? 
Probably  some  reply  like  this :  that,  though  in  the  future 
many  strange  things  might  be,  such  a  tampering  with 


PRESUMPTION.  «• 

Nature  as  tJiat — short  of  a  direct  miracle  from  God^ 

was  IMPOSSIBLE  I 

Arago  was  right.  With  exact  truths  wo  may  deal  in 
a  positive  manner.  Of  a  hexagon  inscribed  within  a 
circle  each  side  is  of  the  same  length  as  the  radius  of 
that  circle  :  it  is  impossible  it  should  be  either  longer  or 
shorter.  The  surface  contained  within  the  square  of 
the  hypothenuse  is  exactly  of  the  same  extent  as  the 
squares,  taken  together,  of  the  two  other  sides  of  the 
same  right-angled  triangle  :  it  is  impossible  it  should  be 
either  greater  or  less.  These  things  we  declare  to  be  im- 
possible with  the  same  assurance  and  the  same  propriety 
with  which  we  assert  that  we  exist;  and  there  is  no  more 
presumption  in  declaring  the  one  than  in  asserting  the 
other.  But,  outside  the  domain  of  pure  mathematics,  or 
kindred  regions  of  abstract  or  intuitive  truth,  cautious 
and  modest  in  his  pronouncings  should  be  fallible  and 
short-sighted  man.  By  what  warrant  does  he  assume  to 
determine  what  God's  laws  permit  and  what  they  deny? 
By  what  authority  does  he  take  upon  himself  to  assert 
that  to  him  all  these  laws  are  known  ?  The  term  of  his 
life  but  a  da}^,  the  circumference  of  his  ken  but  a  spot, 
whence  derives  he  his  commission,  groping  about  in  his 
little  span  of  the  Present,  arrogantly  to  proclaim  what 
is  and  what  is  not  to  be  in  the  illimitable  Future  ?  Does 
not  History  bear  on  every  page  a  condemnation  of  the 
impiety  ?  Does  not  Experience  daily  rise  up  and  testify 
aloud  against  such  egregious  presu-mption  ? 

Not  thus  is  it  that  those  speak  and  reason  whom  deep 
research  has  taught  how  little  they  know.  It  occurs  to 
the  humble  wisdom  of  such  men  that  laws  of  nature 
may  exist  with  which  they  are  wholly  unacquainted;* 

*  I  translate  from  La  Place's  "  Thiorie  analyttque  des  ProhabiliUt  :"— 
"We  are  so  far  from  knowing  all  the  agents  of  nature  and  their  variout 
modes  of  action,  that  it  would  not  be  philosophical  to  deny  any  phenomena 


M  THERE   MAY   BE   LAWS 

nay,  some,  perhaps,  which  may  never,  since  man  was 
first  here  to  observe  them,  have  been  brought  into 
operation  at  all. 

Sir  John  Herschel  has  aptly  illustrated  this  truth. 
"Among  all  the  possible  combinations,"  says  that  en- 
lightened philosopher,  "of  the  fifty  or  sixty  elements 
which  chemistry  shows  to  exist  on  the  earth,  it  is  likely, 
nay,  almost  certain,  that  some  have  never  been  formed ; 
that  some  elements,  in  some  proportions  and  under 
some  circumstances,  have  never  yet  been  placed  in  rela- 
tion with  one  another.  Yet  no  chemist  can  doubt  that 
it  is  already  fixed  what  they  will  do  when  the  case  does 
occur.  They  will  obey  certain  laws,  of  which  we  know 
nothing  at  present,  but  which  must  be  already  fixed,  or 
they  would  not  be  laws."* 

And  what  is  true  as  to  rules  of  chemical  affinity  is 
equally  true  of  physiological  and  psychological  laws. 
Indeed,  it  is  more  likely  to  be  a  frequent  truth  as  to  the 

merely  because  in  the  actual  state  of  our  knowledge  they  are  inexplicable. 
This  only  we  ought  to  do :  in  proportion  to  the  diflSculty  there  seems  to  be 
in  admitting  them  should  be  the  scrupulous  attention  we  bestow  on  their 
examination." — Introd.,  p.  43. 

From  a  widely-accepted  authority  still  better  known  among  us  I  extract, 
in  the  same  connection,  the  following,  in  the  last  line  of  which,  however, 
the  word  possibility  might  have  been  more  strictly  in  place  than  proba^ 
hiliiy : — 

"  An  unlimited  skepticism  is  the  part  of  a  contracted  mind,  which  reasons 
upon  imperfect  data,  or  makes  its  own  knowledge  and  extent  of  observation 
the  standard  and  test  of  probability.  .  .  . 

"  In  receiving  upon  testimony  statements  which  are  rejected  by  the  vulgar 
as  totally  incredible,  a  man  of  cultivated  mind  is  influenced  by  the  recollec- 
tion that  many  things  at  one  time  appeared  to  him  marvelous  which  he  now 
knows  to  be  true,  and  he  thence  concludes  that  there  may  still  be  in  nature 
many  phenomena  and  many  principles  with  which  he  is  entirely  unac- 
quainted. In  other  words,  he  has  learned  from  experience  not  to  make  hia 
own  knowledge  his  test  of  probability." — Abercrombie't  Intellectual  Powers, 
pp.  55  and  60. 

*  "  Preliminary  Discourse  on  the  Study  of  Natural  Philosophy  "  by  Sir 
John  F.  W.  Herschel,  Bart.,  K.H.,  F.R.S.    London,  2d  ed.,  1851,  p.  M. 


NOT   YET   IN   OPERATION.  05 

laws  of  mind  than  as  to  those  of  matter,  because  there 
is  nothing  in  the  world  so  constantly  progressive  as  the 
intelligence  of  man.  His  race  alone,  of  all  the  animated 
races  with  which  we  are  acquainted,  changes  and  rises 
from  generation  to  generation.  The  elephant  and  the 
beaver  of  to-day  are  not,  that  we  know,  more  intelligent  or 
further  developed  than  were  the  elephant  and  the  beaver 
of  three  thousand  years  ago.  Theirs  is  a  stationary 
destiny,  but  man's  an  advancing  one, — advancing  from 
savage  instincts  to  civilized  sentiments,  from  unlettered 
boorishness  to  arts  and  sciences  and  literature,  from 
anarchy  to  order,  from  fanaticism  to  Christianity. 

But  it  is  precisely  in  the  case  of  a  being  whose  pro- 
gress is  constant,  and  whose  destiny  is  upward  as  well 
as  onward,  that  we  may  the  most  confidently  look,  at 
certain  epochs  of  his  development,  for  the  disclosure  of 
new  relations  and  the  further  unfolding  of  laws  till  then 
but  imperfectly  known. 

There  is,  it  is  true,  another  view  to  take  of  this  case. 
To  some  it  will  seem  an  unwarranted  stretch  of  ana- 
logical inference  that  because  in  the  department  of 
chemistry  we  may  anticipate  combinations  never  yet 
formed,  to  be  governed  by  laws  never  yet  operating,  we 
should  therefore  conclude  that  in  the  department  of 
mind,  also,  similar  phenomena  may  be  expected.  Mind 
and  matter,  it  may  be  objected,  are  separated  by  so 
broad  a  demarkation-line,  that  what  is  true  of  the  one 
may  be  false  of  the  other. 

Are  they  so  widely  separated?  Distinct  they  are; 
nothing  is  more  untenable  than  the  argument  of  the 
materialist  j  but  yet  how  intimately  connected !  A 
pressure  on  the  substance  of  the  brain,  and  thought  is 
suspended;  a  sponge  with  a  few  anesthetic  drops  ap- 
plied to  the  nostrils,  and  insensibility  supervenes; 
another  odor  inhaled,  and  life  is  extinct. 

And  if  such  be  the  action  of  matter  on  mind,  no  less 
n  6* 


66  MODERN   PROGRESS   IN   THE 

striking-  is  the  control  of  mind  over  matter.  The  influ- 
ence of  imagination  is  proverbial;  yet  it  has  ever  been 
underrated.  The  excited  mind  can  cure  the  suifering 
body.  Faith,  exalted  to  ecstasy;  has  arrested  disease.* 
The  sway  of  will  thoroughly  stirred  into  action  often 
transcends  the  curative  power  of  physic  or  physician. 

But  it  is  not  in  general  considerations,  such  as  these 
that  the  argument  rests  touching  the  intimate  connec- 
tion between  material  influences  and  mental  phenomena. 
The  modern  study  of  the  imponderables,  already  pro- 
ductive of  physical  results  that  to  our  ancestors  would 
have  seemed  sheer  miracles,  has  afforded  glimpses  of 
progress  in  another  direction,  which  may  brighten  into 
discoveries  before  which  the  spanning  of  the  Atlantic 
by  a  lightning-wire  will  pale  into  insignificance.  Gal- 
vani's  first  hasty  inferences  as  to  animal  electricity  were 
to  a  certain  extent  refuted,  it  is  true,  by  Yolta's  stricter 
tests.  But  in  Italy,  in  Prussia,  and  in  England,  experi- 
ments of  a  recent  date,  following  up  the  just  though 
imperfect  idea  of  the  Bolognese  professor,  have  esta- 
blished the  fact  that  the  muscular  contractions,  voluntary 
or  automatic,  which  produce  action  in  a  living  limb, 
correspond  to  currents  of  electricity  existing  there  in 
appreciable  quantities.f     The  discoverer  of  creosote  has 

*  These  opinions  find  ample  confirmation — to  select  one  among  many 
sources — in  a  branch  of  study  equally  interesting  to  the  physician  and  the 
psychologist ;  the  history,  namely,  of  the  great  mental  epidemics  of  the 
world.     The  reader  will  find  these  briefly  noticed  further  on  in  these  pages. 

f  Galvani's  first  eventful  observation  on  an  electrical  agency  producing 
muscular  contractions  in  animals,  made  on  the  20th  of  September,  1786, 
was,  after  all,  the  starting-point  of  the  recent  interesting  researches  by  Du 
Bois-Reymond,  Zantedeschi,  Matteucci,  and  others,  on  the  continent  of  Eu- 
rope, and  by  Rutter  and  Leger,  in  England.  Du  Bois-Reymond  himself, 
member  of  the  Academy  of  Sciences  of  Berlin,  very  candidly  admits  this 
fact.  In  a  historical  introduction  to  his  work  on  Animal  Magnetism 
(*'  Unterauchungen  uher  thieriache  Elektricit'dt"  Berlin,  1848-49)  that  writer 
■ays,  "  Qalvani  really  discovered  not  only  the  fundamental  physiological 
experiment  of  galvanism  properly  so  called,  (the  conlra/'Von  o^  the  frog 


STUDY   OF   THE   IMPONDERABLES.  67 

given  to  the  world  the  results  of  a  ten  years'  labor,  it 
may  be  said,  in  the  same  field ;  distinguishing,  however, 
what  he  terms  the  Odic  from  the  electric  force.*  Aragc 
thought  the  case  of  Angelique  Cottin  (well  known  under 
the  name  of  the  "  Electric  Girl")  worthy  of  being  brought 
under  the  notice  of  the  Paris  Academy  of  Sciences  ;f 
and,  speaking,  seven  years  afterward,  of  "  the  actual 
power  which  one  man  may  exert  over  another  without 
the  intervc  tion  of  any  known  physical  agent,"  he  de- 
clares that  even  Bailly's  report  against  Mesmer's  crude 
theory  shows  "how  our  faculties  ought  to  be  studied 

when  touched  with  dissimilar  metals,)  but  also  that  of  the  electricity  inhe- 
rent in  the  nerves  and  muscles.  Both  of  these  discoveries  were,  however, 
hidden  in  such  a  confusion  of  circumstances  that  the  result  in  both  caaes 
appeared  equally  to  depend  on  the  limbs  or  tissues  of  the  animals  employed." 

The  reader,  desiring  to  follow  up  this  subject,  may  consult  a  work  by  H. 
Bence  Jones,  M.D.,  F.R.S.,  entitled  "On  Animal  Electricity :  being  an  Ab^ 
stract  of  the  Diacoveriea  of  Emit  Du  Boia-Reymond,"  London,  1852.  Also, 
"  Traits  dee  Phinomhies  Slectro-phyaiologiquea  dea  Animaux,"  by  Carlo  Ma.t- 
teucci,  Professor  in  the  University  of  Pisa,  1844.  Also,  Baron  Humboldt's 
work  on  Stimulated  Nervous  and  Muscular  Fibers,  ("Verauche  Uber  die 
gereizte  Muahel-  und  Nervev/aaer,  u.  a.  w") 

In  England  experiments  in  this  branch  have  been  pushed  farther  than  in 
any  other  country ;  chiefly  by  Butter  of  Brighton,  and  by  Dr.  Leger,  whose 
early  death  was  a  loss  alike  to  physiological  and  psychological  science.  I 
had  an  opportunity,  through  the  kindness  of  Mr.  Butter,  of  personally 
witnessing  the  extraordinary  results  to  which  his  patient  research  has  led, 
and  which  I  regret  that  space  does  not  permit  me  here  to  notice  at  large. 
I  can  but  refer  to  his  work,  "Human  Electricity :  the  Meana  of  ita  Develop- 
ment, illuatrated  by  Experimenta,"  London,  1854  j  and  to  another  brief  treatise 
on  the  same  subject,  by  Dr.  T.  Leger,  entitled  " The  Magnetoacope :  an  Eaaay 
on  the  Magnetoid  Characteriatica  of  Elementary  Principlea,  and  their  Reia- 
tiona  to  the  Organization  of  Man,"  London,  1852. 

The  whole  subject  is  singularly  interesting,  and  will  richly  repay  the 
^fudy  that  may  be  bestowed  upon  it. 

*  I  here  refer  to  Baron  Beichenbach's  elaborate  treatises  on  what  he  calls 
the  "  Odic  Force,"  without  expressing  any  opinion  as  to  the  accuracy  of  the 
author's  conclusions.     Beichenbach  discovered  creosote  in  183.3. 

t  Arago's  report  on  the  subject  was  made  on  the  16th  of  February,  1846. 
It  is  much  to  be  regretted  that  an  observer  so  sagacious  should  have  had  no 
opportunity,  in  this  case,  to  follow  up  his  first  hasty  experimsnts. 


S8  ouvier's  admission. 

experimentally,  and  by  what  means  psychology  may 
one  day  obtain  a  place  among  the  exact  sciences."* 
Cuvier,  more  familiar  than  Arago  with  the  phenomena 
of  animated  nature,  speaks  more  decidedly  than  he  on 
the  same  subject.  "  It  scarcely  admits  of  further  doubt," 
says  that  eminent  naturalist,  "  that  the  proximity  of  two 
living  bodies,  in  certain  circumstances  and  with  certain 
movements,  has  a  real  effect,  independently  of  all  parti- 
cipation of  the  imagination  of  one  of  the  two ;"  and  he 
further  adds  that  "it  appears  now  clearly  enough  that 
the  effects  are  due  to  some  communication  established 
between  their  nervous  systems/'f  This  is  conceding 
the  principle  lying  at  the  base  of  Mesmerism, — a  con- 
cession which  is  sustained  by  countless  observations, 
little  reliable  in  some  cases,  but  in  others,  especially  of 
late,  carefully  made  by  upright  and  capable  experiment- 
alists, on  the  contested  ground  of  artificial  somnambulism 
and  kindred  phenomena. 

Without  pausing  here  to  inquire  to  what  extent  these 
various  startling  novelties  need  confirmation,  or  how 
far  the  deductions  therefrom  may  be  modified  or  dis- 
proved by  future  observations,  enough  of  indisputable 
can  be  found  therein,  if  not  to  indicate  that  we  may  be 
standing  even  now  on  the  shores  of  a  Great  Ocean, 
slowly  uiyvailing  its  wonders,  and  the  exploration  of 

*  "BiograpMe  de  Jean-Sylvain  Bailly"  by  M.  Arago,  originally  pub- 
lished in  the  "Annuaire  du  Bureau  des  Longitudes"  for  1853,  pp.  345  to 
625. 

f  " Leqona  d'Anatomie  comparie"  de  G.  Cuvier,  Paris;  An.  viii.  vol.  ii. 
pp.  117,  118.     The  original  text,  with  its  context,  is  as  follows : — 

"  Lc8  efiFets  obtenus  sur  des  personnes  d6j§,  sans  connaissance  avant  que 
I'op^ration  commen5a,t,  ceux  qui  ont  lieu  sur  les  autres  personnes  aprSsqup 
Topgration  leur  a  fait  perdre  connaissance,  et  ceux  que  presentent  les  ani- 
maux,  ne  permettent  gudre  de  douter  que  la  proximity  de  deux  corps 
animus,  dans  certaines  positions  et  avec  certains  mouvements,  n'ait  un 
effet  r6el,  independant  de  toute  participation  de  I'imagination  d'une  deg 
deux,  n  parait  assez  olairement,  aussi,  que  les  effets  sont  dus  ^  une  cciuoitf 
nication  quelconque  qui  s'^tablit  entre  leurs  systSmes  nerveux." 


WHAT    MAY   BE.  09 

which  is  to  bring  us  richer  reward  than  did  that  of  tho 
Atlantic  to  Columbus,  at  least  to  convince  us  that  Her- 
Bchel's  philosophical  remark  may  have  a  wider  range 
than  he  intended  to  give  it;  that  in  physiology  and  in 
psychology,  as  in  chemistry,  there  may  be  possible  com- 
binations that  have  never  yet  "been  formed  under  our 
eyes;  new  relations,  new  conditions,  yet  to  exist  or 
appear;  all  to  be  governed,  when  they  do  occur,  by 
laws  that  have  obtained,  indeed,  from  the  creation  of 
the  world,  but  have  remained  until  now,  not,  indeed, 
inoperative,  but  concealed  from  general  observation. 

From  general  observation ;  for,  though  unrecognized 
by  science,  they  are  not  therefore  to  be  set  down  as  un- 
known. It  is  one  of  the  objects  proposed  in  the  pages 
which  follow,  to  glean,  from  the  past  as  well  as  the 
present,  scattered  intimations  of  the  existence  of  laws 
under  which  it  has  been  alleged  that  man  may  attain, 
from  sources  other  than  revelation  and  analogy,  some 
assurance  in  regard  to  the  world  to  come.  And  since 
it  is  evident  that  no  abstract  truth  is  violated  by  the 
hypothesis  of  the  existence  of  such  laws,  may  I  not 
adduce  such  names  as  Arago  and  Herschel  to  sustain 
me  in  asserting,  that  they  lack  prudence  who  take  upon 
themselves  to  pronounce,  in  advance,  that  whoever 
argues  such  a  theme  has  engaged  in  a  search  after  tho 
impossible  ? 


CHAPTER  111. 

THE    MIRACULOUS. 

The  universal  cause 
Acts,  not  by  partial  but  by  general  laws. — Popb. 

Men  are  very  generally  agreed  to  regard  him  as 
stricken  with  superstition  or  blinded  by  credulity  who 
believes  in  any  miracle  of  modern  days.  And  as  the 
world  grows  older  this  disbelief  in  the  supernatural 
gradually  acquires  strength  and  universality. 

The  reason  seems  to  be,  that  the  more  searchingly 
science  explores  the  mechanism  of  the  universe  and 
unvails  the  plan  of  its  government,  the  more  evidence 
there  appears  for  the  poet's  opinion  that  it  is  by  general, 
not  by  partial,  laws  that  the  universe  is  governed. 

In  such  a  doctrine  the  question  of  God's  omnipotence 
is  not  at  all  involved.  It  is  not  whether  He  can  make 
exceptions  to  a  system  of  universal  law,  but  whether 
He  doe&.  If  we  may  permit  ourselves  to  speak  of  God's 
choice  and  intentions,  it  is  not  whether,  to  meet  an  in- 
cidental exigency.  He  has  the  power  to  suspend  tne 
order  of  those  constant  sequences  which,  because  ot 
their  constancy,  we  term  laws;  but  only  whether,  in 
point  of  fact,  He  chooses  to  select  that  occasional  mode 
of  effecting  His  objects,  or  does  not  rather  see  fit  to 
carry  them  out  after  a  more  unvarying  plan,  by  means 
less  exceptional  and  arbitrary.     It  is  a  question  of  fact. 

But  modern  Science,  in  her  progress,  not  only  strikes 

from  what  used  to  be  regarded  as  the  list  of  exceptions 

to  the  general  order  of  nature  one  item  after  another : 

she  exhibits  to  us,  also,  more  clearly  day  by  day,  the 

70 


MODERN    MIRACLES   REJECTED.  71 

simplicity  of  natural  laws,  and  the  principle  of  unity 
under  which  detached  branches  are  connected  as  parts 
of  one  great  system 

Thus,  as  applied  to  what  happens  in  our  day,  accumu- 
lating experience  discredits  the  doctrine  of  occasional 
causes  and  the  belief  in  the  miraculous.  If  a  man 
relate  to  us,  even  from  his  own  experience,  some  inci- 
dent clearly  involving  supernatural  agency,  we  listen 
with  a  shrug  of  pity.  If  we  have  too  good  an  opinion 
of  the  narrator's  honesty  to  suspect  that  he  is  playing 
on  our  credulity,  we  conclude  unhesitatingly  that  he  is 
deceived  by  his  own.  We  do  not  stop  to  examine  the 
evidence  for  a  modern  miracle :  we  reject  it  on  general 
principles. 

But,  in  assenting  to  such  skepticism,  we  shall  do  well 
to  consider  what  a  miracle  is.  Hume,  in  his  well-known 
chapter  on  this  subject,  adduces  a  useful  illustration. 
The  Indian  prince,  he  says,  who  rejected  testimony  as 
to  the  existence  of  ice,  refused  his  assent  to  facts  which 
arose  from  a  state  of  nature  with  which  he  was  unac- 
quainted, and  which  bore  so  little  analogy  to  those 
events  of  which  he  had  had  constant  and  uniform  expe- 
rience. As  to  these  facts,  he  alleges,  "Though  they 
were  not  contrary  to  his  experience,  they  were  not  con- 
formable to  it."*  And,  in  explanation  of  the  distinction 
here  made,  he  adds,  in  a  note,  "No  Indian,  it  is  evident, 
could  have  experience  that  water  did  not  freeze  in  cold 
cli  mates,  "f 

Is  the  above  distinction  a  substantial  one?  If  so,  it 
leads  much  further  than  Hume  intended  it  should. 

JSot  only  had  the  Indian  prince  never  seen  water  in 
a  solid  state  J  until  now,  he  had  never  heard  of  such  a 
thing.     Not  only  was   his   own  unvarying  experience 

*  Hume's  "  Essays  and  Treatises  on  Various  Subjects,"  2d  ed.,  London^ 
1784,  vol.  ii.  p.  122. 

t  Hume's  Essays,  vol.  ii.,  Note  K,  p.  479. 


72  THE   INDIAN    PRINCE 

opposed  to  the  alleged  fact,  but  the  experience  of  his 
fathers,  the  traditions  of  his  country,  all  declared  that 
water  ever  had  been,  as  now  it  was,  a  fluid.  Had  he 
no  right  to  say  that  solid  water  was  a  thing  contrary 
to  his  experience?  Or  ought  he,  with  philosophic  mode- 
ration, to  have  restricted  his  declaration  to  this,  that 
the  phenomenon  of  ice,  if  such  phenomenon  had  actual 
existence,  "  arose  from  a  state  of  nature  with  which  he 
was  unacquainted." 

We,  who  have  so  often  walked  upon  solid  water,  find 
no  difficulty  in  deciding  that  this  last  is  what  he  ought 
to  have  said.  Let  us  forgive  the  ignorant  savage  his 
presumptuous  denial,  as  we  would  ourselves,  in  similar 
case,  be  forgiven ! 

Let  us  reflect  how  much  cautious  wisdom,  that  we  find 
not  among  the  best  informed  and  most  learned  among 
ourselves,  we  are  expecting  from  an  unlettered  bar- 
barian. Let  us  inquire  whether  Hume,  calm  and  philo- 
sophic as  he  is,  does  not  himself  fail  in  the  very  wisdom 
he  exacts.     He  says,  in  the  same  chapter, — 

"A  miracle  is  a  violation  of  the  laws  of  Nature;  and, 
as  a  firm  and  unalterable  experience  has  established  these 
laws,  the  proof  against  a  miracle,  from  the  very  nature 
of  the  fact,  is  as  entire  as  any  argument  from  experience 
can  possibly  be  imagined."* 

Here  are  two  propositions :  one,  that  what  a  firm  and 
unalterable  experience  establishes  is  a  law  of  nature ; 
and  the  other,  that  a  variation  from  such  a  law  is  a 
miracle. 

But  no  human  experience  is  unalterable.  We  may 
say  it  has  hitherto  been  unaltered.  And  even  that  it  is 
always  hazardous  to  say. 

If  any  one  has  a  right  thus  to  speak  of  his  experi- 
ence and  that  of  his  fellows,  was  not  the  Indian  prince 
justified  in  considering  it  to  be  proved,  by  unalterable 
*  Hume's  Essays,  vol.  ii.  p.  122. 


AND   THE   SCOTTISH   HISTORIAN.  7S 

experience,  that  a  stone  placed  on  the  surface  of  a  sheet 
of  water  would  sink  to  the  bottom?  Was  he  not 
fully  justified,  according  to  Hume's  own  premises,  in 
setting  down  the  traveler's  allegation  to  the  contrary 
as  the  assertion  of  a  miracle,  and,  as  such,  in  rejecting 
it  as  impossible  ? 

"No  Indian,"  says  Hume,  "could  have  experience 
that  water  did  not  freeze  in  cold  countries."  Of  course 
not.  That  was  a  fact  beyond  his  experience.  Are  there 
no  facts  beyond  ours?  Are  there  no  states  of  nature 
with  which  we  are  unacquainted?  Is  it  the  Indian 
prince  alone  whose  experience  is  limited  and  fallible  ? 

When  a  man  speaks  of  the  experience  of  the  past  as 
a  regulator  of  his  belief,  he  means — he  can  mean — only 
so  much  of  that  experience  as  has  come  to  his  knowledge 
mediately  or  immediately.  In  such  a  case,  then,  to  ex- 
press himself  accurately,  he  ought  not  to  say,  "  the  ex- 
perience of  the  past," — for  that  would  imply  that  he 
knows  all  that  has  ever  happened, — but  only,  "  my  past 
experience." 

Then  Hume's  assertion,  in  the  paragraph  above  quoted, 
is,  that  his  past  experience,  being  firm  and  unalterable,* 
enables  him  to  determine  what  are  invariable  laws  of 
nature,  and,  consequently,  what  are  miracles. 

ISTor  is  this  the  full  extent  of  the  presumption.  Else- 
where in  this  chapter  the  author  says  "  that  a  miracle 
supported  by  any  human  testimony  is  more  properly  a 
subject  of  derision  than  of  argument."! 

Taken  in  connection  with  the  paragraph  above  cited, 
what  a  monstrous  doctrine  is  here  set  up  I    Let  it  be 

*  In  another  place  (p.  119)  Hame  employs  the  word  infallible  in  a  simi- 
lar connection,  thus: — "A  wise  man  proportions  his  belief  to  the  evidence. 
In  such  conclusions  as  are  founded  on  an  infallible  experience,  he  expects 
the  event  with  the  last  degree  of  assurance,  and  regards  his  pa«t  experience 
as  a  full  proof  of  the  future  existence  of  that  event."     (The  italics  arc  hia.) 

t  Hume's  Essays,  vol.  ii.  p.  133. 

7 


74  Hume's  definition 

stated  in  plain  terms.  "  I  regard  my  past  experience  aa 
firm  and  unalterable.  If  a  witness,  no  matter  how 
credible,  testifies  to  any  occurrence  which  is  contrary  to 
that  experience,  I  do  not  argue  with  such  a  man:  he  is 
only  worthy  of  derision." 

Though,  in  our  day,  hundreds  who  ought  to  know 
better  act  out  this  very  doctrine,  I  would  not  be  under- 
stood as  asserting  that  Hume  intended  to  put  it  forth. 
We  often  fail  to  perceive  the  legitimate  issue  of  our  own 
premises. 

But  let  us  proceed  a  step  further.  Let  us  inquire 
under  what  circumstances  we  have  the  right  to  say, 
"such  or  such  »n  occurrence  is  incredible,  for  it  would 
be  miraculous." 

The  question  brings  us  back  to  our  first  inquiry, — as 
to  what  a  miracle  is.  Let  us  examine  Hume's  defini- 
tion : — 

"  A  miracle  may  be  accurately  defined,  a  transgres- 
sion of  a  law  of  nature  by  a  particular  volition  of  the 
Deity,  or  by  the  interposition  of  some  invisible  agent."* 
I  remark,  in  passing,  that  the  expression  "  by  the  inter- 
position of  some  invisible  »gent"  is  an  inaccuracy.  Cold 
is  an  invisible  agent :  it  is  not  even  a  positive  agent  at 
all,  being  only  the  withdrawal  or  diminution  of  heat. 
Yet  cold  suspends  what  the  Indian  prince  had  strong 
reason  for  regarding  as  a  law  of  nature. 

But  the  main  proposition  remains.  *'A  miracle  is  a 
transgression  of  a  law  of  nature  by  a  particular  volition 
of  the  Deity." 

Here  again  jbhe  language  seems  unhappily  chosen. 
When  we  speak  of  a  thing  as  happening  by  the  will  of 
God,  we  rationally  intend,  by  the  expression,  only  thai 
it  is  the  act  of  God;  for  God's  intentions  are  inscrutable 
to  us,  except  as  they  appear  in  His  acts.     Cac  w^  SAy 

*  Hume's  Essays,  vol.  it,  Note  E,  p.  480. 


OF  A   MIRACLE.  75 

of  any  thing  which  occurs  at  all,  that  it  does  not  occur 
by  volition  of  the  Deity  ? 

The  word  "  transgression,"  too,  seems  not  the  best  that 
could  have  been  employed.*  It  must,  of  course,  be  taken 
in  its  original  sense  of  a  going  or  passing  beyond.  The 
author  evidently  meant  a  suspension  for  the  time  to  suit 
a  particular  emergency ;  and  that  would  have  been  the 
more  appropriate  phrase. 

Hume's  idea,  then,  would  seem  to  be  more  fittingly 
expressed  in  these  terms : — "A  miracle  is  a  suspension,  in 
a  special  emergency  and  for  the  time  only,  of  a  law 
of  nature,  by  the  direct  intervention  of  the  Deity."  We 
might  add,  to  complete  the  ordinary  conception  of  a 
miracle,  the  words,  "in  attestation  of  some  truth." 

And  now  arises.the  chief  question,  already  suggested 
How  are  we  to  know,  as  to  any  unusual  phenomenon 
presented  to  us,  that  it  is  an  effect  of  the  special  inter- 
vention of  God  ?  in  other  words,  whether  it  is  miracu- 
lous? 

But  I  will  not  even  ask  this  question  as  to  ourselves, 
finite  and  short-sighted  as  we  are.  It  shall  be  far  more 
forcibly  put.  Let  us  imagine  a  sage,  favored  beyond 
living  mortal,  of  mind  so  comprehensive,  of  information 
so  vast,  that  the  entire  experience  of  the  past  world, 
century  by  century,  even  from  m^n's  creation,  lay 
patent  before  him.  Let  us  suppose  the  question  ad 
dressed  to  him.  And  would  he, — a  being  thus  preterna- 
turally  gifted, — would  even  he  have  the  right  to  decide, 

*  It  would  be  hypercriticism  to  object  to  this  expression  in  a  general  way. 
The  best  authors  have  employed  it  as  Hume  does,  yet  rather  in  poetry  than 
in  prose,  as  Dry  don  : — 

"  Long  stood  the  noble  youth,  oppressed  with  awe, 
And  stupid  at  the  wondrous  things  he  saw, 
Surpassing  common  faith,  transgressing  Nature's  law." 
Bat  a  looseness  of  expression  which  may  adorn  a  poetic  phrase,  or  pass 
unchallenged  in  a  literary  theme,  should  be  avoided  in  a  strictly  logical 
argument,  and  more  especially  in  a  definition  of  termc. 


f6  MEN   CAN   ESTABLISH 

would  he  have  the  means  of  deciding,  as  to  any  event 
which  may  happen  to-day,  whether  it  is,  or  is  not,  a 
miracle  ? 

He  may  know,  what  we  never  can,  that  a  uniform  ex- 
perience, continued  throughout  thousands  of  years  and 
unbroken  yet  by  a  single  exception,  has  established,  as 
far  as  past  experience  can  establish,  the  existence  of  a 
natural  law  or  constant  sequence ;  and  he  may  observe 
a  variation,  the  first  which  ever  occurred,  to  this  law. 
But  is  it  given  to  him  to  know  whether  the  Deity,  to 
meet  a  certain  exigency,  is  suspending  His  own  law,  or 
whether  this  variation  is  not  an  integral  portion  of  the 
original  law  itself?  in  other  words,  whether  the  apparent 
law,  as  judged  by  an  induction  running  through  thou- 
sands of  years,  is  the  full  expression  of  that  law,  or 
whether  the  exception  now  first  appearing  was  *not  em- 
braced in  the  primary  adjustment  of  the  law  itself,  when 
it  was  first  made  to  act  on  the  great  mechanism  of  the 
Universe  ? 

Has  the  Creator  of  the  world  no  power  to  establish 
for  its  progressive  government  laws  of  (what  we  may 
call)  a  change-bearing  character?  preserving,  (that  is,) 
through  the  lapse  of  many  ages,  constancy  of  sequence, 
and  then,  at  a  certain  epoch,  by  virtue  of  that  charac- 
ter, (impressed  upon  it  by  the  same  original  ordination 
which  determined  the  previous  long-enduring  constancy,) 
made  to  exhibit  a  variation? 

We,  his  creatures,  even  with  our  restricted  powers, 
know  how  to  impress  upon  human  mechanism  laws  of 
just  such  a  character.  The  illustration  furnished  by 
Babbage's  Calculating  Machine,  familiar  though  it  may 
be,  so  naturally  suggests  itself  in  this  connection,  that 
I  may  be  pardoned  for  presenting  it  here. 

Mr.  Babbage's  engine,  intended  to  calculate  and  print 
mathematical  and  astronomical  tables  for  the  British 
Government,  offers  interesting  incidental   results.     Of 


CHANGE-BEARING   LAWS.  77 

these,  the  following,  supplied  by  the  inventor  himself,  is 
an  example ;  and  one  of  such  a  character  that  no  know- 
ledge of  the  mechanism  of  the  machine,  nor  acquaint- 
ance with  mathematical  science,  is  necessary  to  compre- 
hend it. 

He  bids  us  imagine  that  the  machine  had  been  adjusted. 
It  is  put  in  motion  by  a  weight,  and  the  spectator, 
sitting  down  before  it,  observes  a  wheel  which  moves 
through  a  small  angle  round  its  axis,  and  which  pre- 
sents at  short  intervals  to  his  eye,  successively,  a  series 
of  numbers  engraved  *on  its  divided  surface.  He  bids  us 
suppose  the  figures  thus  seen  to  be  the  series  of  natural 
numbers,  1,  2,  3,  4,  &c. ;  each  one  exceeding  its  ante- 
cedent by  unity.     Then  he  proceeds : — 

"Now,  reader,  let  me  ask  how  long  you  will  have 
counted  before  you  are  firmly  convinced  that  the  engine, 
supposing  its  adjustments  to  remain  unaltered,  will  con- 
tinue, whilst  its  motion  is  maintained,  to  produce  the 
same  series  of  natural  numbers  ?  Some  minds,  perhaps, 
are  so  constituted,  that  after  passing  the  first  hundred 
terms  they  will  be  satisfied  that  they  are  acquainted 
with  the  law.  After  seeing  five  hundred  terms  few  will 
doubt ;  and  after  the  fifty  thousandth  term  the  propensity 
to  believe  that  the  succeeding  term  will  be  fifty  thousand 
and  one  will  be  almost  irresistible.  That  term  will  be 
fifty  thousand  and  one  :  the  same  regular  succession 
will  continue ;  the  five  millionth  and  the  fifty  millionth 
term  will  still  appear  in  their  expected  order;  and  one 
anbroken  chain  of  natural  numbers  will  pass  before 
your  ej^es,  from  one  up  to  one  hundred  million. 

"True  to  the  vast  induction  which  has  thus  been 
made,  the  next  term  will  be  one  hundred  million  and 
one;  but  after  that  the  next  number  presented  by  the 
lim  of  the  wheel,  instead  of  being  one  hundred  million 
and  two,  is  one  hundred  million  ten  thousand  and  two. 
The  whole  series,  from  the  commencement,  being  thus : — 


T8  ILLUSTRATION   FROM 

1 


99,999,999 

100,000,000 

regularly  as  far  as  100,000,001 

100,010,002    :— the  law  changes 

100,030,003 

100,060,004 

100,100,005 

100,150,006 

100,210,007 


"The  law  which  seemed  at  first  to  govern  this  series 
failed  at  the  hundred  million  and  second  term.  This 
term  is  larger  than  we  expected  by  10,000.  The  next 
term  is  larger  than  was  anticipated  by  30,000;  and  the 
excess  of  each  term  above  what  we  had  expected  is 
found  to  be  10,000,  30,000,  60,000,  100,000,  150,000,  &c. ; 
being,  in  fact,  what  are  called  the  series  of  triangular 
numbers,  each  multiplied  by  10,000." 

Mr.  Babbage  then  goes  on  to  state  that  this  new  law, 
after  continuing  for  2761  terms,  fails  at  the  two  thou- 
sand seven  hundred  and  sixty-second  term,  when 
another  law  comes  into  action,  to  continue  for  1430 
terms;  then  to  give  place  to  still  another,  extending 
over  950  terms ;  which,  like  all  its  predecessors,  fails  in 
its  turn,  and  is  succeeded  by  other  laws,  which  appear 
at  different  intervals. 

Mr.  Babbage' s  remarks  on  this  extraordinary  pheno- 
menon are  as  follows : — 


BABBAGE'S   CALCULATING    MACHINE.  79 

"Now,  it  must  be  remarked,  that  the  law  that  each 
number  presented  by  the  engine  is  greater  by  unity  than  the 
preceding  numbery  which  law  the  observer  had  deduced 
from  an  induction  of  a  hundred  million  instances,  was  not 
the  true  law  that  regulated  its  action;  and  that  the 
occurrence  of  the  number  100,010,002  at  the  100,000,002d 
term  was  as  necessary  a  consequence  of  the  original  ad- 
justment, and  might  have  been  as  fully  foreknown 
at  the  commencement,  as  was  the  regular  succession  of 
any  one  of  the  intermediate  numbers  to  its  immediate 
antecedent.  The  same  remark  applies  to  the  next  ap- 
parent deviation  from  the  new  law,  which  was  founded 
on  an  induction  of  2761  terms,  and  to  all  the  succeeding 
laws;  with  this  limitation  only, — that,  whilst  their  con- 
secutive introduction  at  various  definite  intervals  is  a 
necessary  consequence  of  the  mechanical  structure  of 
the  engine,  our  knowledge  of  analysis  does  not  yet 
enable  us  to  predict  the  periods  at  which  the  more 
distant  laws  will  be  introduced."* 

This  illustration  must  not  be  taken  as  suborned  to 
establish  more  than  it  strictly  proves.  It  is,  doubtless, 
not  only  a  wise  but  a  necessary  provision  in  our  nature, 
that  the  constancy  of  any  sequence  in  the  past  should 
inspire  us  with  faith  that  it  will  continue  in  the  future. 
Without  such  faith,  the  common  economy  of  life  would 
stand  still.  Uncertain  whether  to-morrow's  sun  would 
rise  as  did  the  sun  of  to-day,  or  whether  the  seasons 
would  continue  their  regular  alternations,  our  lives 
would  pass  amid  scruples  and  hesitations.  All  calcula- 
tion would  be  baffled;  all  industry  would  sink  under 
discouragement. 

The  chances,  so  incalculably  great,  in  most  cases,  as 


♦  "  Ninth  Bridgewater  Treatise,"  by  Charles  Babbage,  2d  ed.,  London, 
1838,  pp.  34  to  39.  The  passage  has  been  already  quoted  by  another,  in 
connection  with  a  physiological  question. 


80  THAT    WHICH   HAS    BEEN 

for  all  practical  purposes  to  amount  to  certainty,  are 
in  favor  of  the  constancy  of  natural  sequences.  The 
corresponding  expectations,  common  to  man  with  the 
lower  animals,  are  instinctive. 

All  this  is  not  only  true,  but  it  is  palpable  to  oui 
every-day  consciousness, — a  truth  whereupon  is  based 
the  entire  superstructure  of  our  daily  hopes  and  actions. 
The  wheel,  with  its  divided  surface,  ever  revolving, 
does  present,  to  human  eyes,  uniformity  of  sequence,  age 
after  age;  and  when  the  unbroken  chain  has  run  on  from 
thousands  to  millions,  we  are  justified,  amply  justified, 
in  expecting  that  the  next  term  will  obey  the  same 
law  that  determined  its  antecedent.  All  I  have  sought 
to  do  in  this  argument  is  to  keep  alive  in  our  minds  the 
conviction,  that  there  may  be  a  hundred  million  and 
second  term,  at  which  the  vast  induction  fails;  and 
that,  if  such  does  appear,  we  have  no  right  to  conclude 
that  the  change,  unprecedented  as  it  must  seem  to  us,  is 
not  as  necessary  a  consequence  of  an  original  adjust- 
ment as  was  the  seemingly  infinite  uniformity  that 
preceded  it. 

The  extreme  rarity  of  what  I  have  called  change- 
bearing  laws  of  nature  is  to  be  conceded;  but  not  the 
improbability  of  their  existence.  In  a  world  all  over 
which  is  stamped  the  impress  of  progress,  and  which, 
for  aught  we  know,  may  continue  to  endure  through 
countless  ages,  laws  of  such  a  character,  self-adapted  to 
a  changeful  state  of  things,  may  be  regarded  as  of  likely 
occurrence.* 


*  Modern  science  is  revealing  to  us  glimpses  that  may  brighten  into 
positive  proof  of  this  hypothesis.  Sir  John  Herschel,  writing  to  Lyell  the 
geologist,  and  alluding  to  what  he  calls  that  "  mystery  of  mysteries,  the 
replacement  of  extinct  species  by  others,"  says, — 

"  For  my  own  part,  I  cannot  but  think  it  an  inadequate  conception  of  the 
Creator,  to  assume  it  as  granted  that  His  combinations  are  exhausted  upon 
any  one  of  the  theaters  of  their  former  exercise ;  though  in  this,  as  in  all 


MAY    NOT   ALWAYS   BE.  8( 

But  it  suffices  for  the  present  argument  to  establish 
the  possibility  of  such  laws.  If  they  are  possible,  then, 
in  regard  to  any  alleged  occurrence  of  modern  times, 
(strange  in  character,  perhaps,  but  coming  to  us  well 
attested,)  we  are  barred  from  asserting  that,  because 
contrary  to  past  experience,  it  would  be  miraculous,  and 
is  consequently  impossible.  We  are  as  strictly  barred 
from  this  as  are  the  visitors  to  Mr.  Babbage's  engine 
from  pronouncing,  w^hen  the  long  uniformity  of  a  past 
sequence  is  unexpectedly  violated,  that  the  inventor  has 
been  dealing  in  the  black  art  and  is  trenching  on  the 
supernatural.* 

His  other  works,  we  are  led  by  all  analogy  to  suppose  that  He  operates 
through  a  series  of  intermediate  causes,  and  that,  in  consequence,  the  ori- 
gination of  fresh  species,  could  it  ever  come  under  our  cognizance,  would 
be  found  to  be  a  natural,  in  contradistinction  to  a  miraculous,  process; 
although  we  may  perceive  no  indication  of  any  process,  actually  in  pro- 
gress, which  is  likely  to  issue  in  such  a  result." — Herachel's  tetter  of  Feb. 
20,  1836,  published  in  Appendix  to  Babbage's  work  above  cited,  p.  226. 

♦  Reading  this  chapter  more  than  a  year  after  it  was  written — namely,  in 
March,  1859 — to  a  private  circle  of  friends  in  London,  one  of  them  called 
my  attention,  in  connection  with  its  argument,  to  an  article  then  just  pub- 
lished in  the  (London)  Athenaeum,  attributed  (correctly,  I  believe)  to 
Professor  De  Morgan,  of  the  London  University.  It  proved  to  be  a  review 
of  that  strange  self-commitment  of  an  able  man,  virtually  following 
Hume's  false  lead,  Faraday's  extraordinary  lecture  on  "  Mental  Training,'* 
delivered,  before  Prince  Albert,  at  the  Royal  Institution.  And  it  was  a 
satisfaction  to  me,  on  referring  to  the  article,  to  find,  from  the  pen  of  one 
of  the  first  mathematicians  of  Europe,  such  a  paragraph  as  the  following:— 

"  The  natural  philosopher,  when  he  imagines  a  physical  impoaaibility 
which  is  not  an  inconceivability,  merely  states  that  his  phenomenon  ig 
igainst  all  that  has  been  hitherto  known  of  the  course  of  nature.  Before 
he  can  compass  an  impossibility,  he  has  a  huge  postulate  to  ask  of  his 
reader  or  hearer,  a  postulate  which  nature  never  taught:  it  is  that  the  future 
la  always  to  agree  with  the  past.  How  do  you  know  that  this  sequence 
of  phenomena  always  will  be?  Answer,  Because  it  must  be.  But  how  do 
you  know  that  it  must  be?  Answer,  Because  it  always  has  been.  But 
then,  even  granting  that  it  always  has  been,  how  do  you  know  that  what 
always  has  been  always  will  be?  Answer,  I  feel  my  mind  compelled  to 
lAat  conclusion.  And  how  do  you  know  that  the  leanings  of  your  mind 
are  always  toward  truth?  Because  I  am  infallible,  the  answer  ought  to 
P 


82  CHANGE-BEARING-LAWS     RARE. 

Nay,  there  are  far  stronger  reasons  against  such  pre- 
sumption in  our  case  than  in  that  of  the  supposed  spec- 
tator before  the  calculating  machine.  He  has  ob- 
served the  entire  series,  even  to  the  hundred  millionth 
term.  How  insignificant  the  fraction  that  has  passed 
before  our  eyes !  How  imperfect  our  knowledge  of 
that  portion  which  has  passed  before  the  eyes  of 
our  ancestors!  How  insufficient,  then,  are  the  data 
for  a  decision  that  the  past  uniformity  has  been  un- 
broken ! 

And  herein,  beyond  all  question,  do  we  find  a  source 
of  error  infinitely  more  frequent  than  is  the  failure  to 
recognize  a  change-bearing  law.  I  have  set  forth  the  ex- 
istence of  such  laws  as  a  possibility  beyond  human  denial; 
yet  only  as  an  argument  to  meet  an  extreme  case, — a 
case  so  exceedingly  rare  that,  notwithstanding  its  cer- 
tain possibility,  it  may  never  present  itself  to  our  ob- 
servation. So  far  as  the  scope  of  our  limited  experience 
extends,  the  argument,  how  undeniable  soever,  may 
have  no  practical  application.  It  may  never  be  our 
fortune  to  stand  before  the  Great  Machine  at  the 
moment  when  the  hundred  million  and  second  term, 
unexpectedly  presenting  itself,  indicates  a  departure 
from  all  former  precedent. 

Among  the  laws  which  we  see  at  work,  it  may  chance 
that  we  shall  never  observe  one  which  some  ancestor 
has  not  seen  in  operation  already.  I^ay,  that  chance 
is  a  probable  one.  In  other  words,  if  a  phenomenon 
actually  present  itself  which  we  are  tempted  to  regard 
as  a  violation  of  natural  law,  it  is  more  likely — ten 
thousand  to  one — that  a  similar  phenomenon  has  al- 
ready shown  itself  more  or  less  frequently  in  the  past, 
than  that  it  presents  itself  now  for  the  first  time  in  the 
history  of  our  race. 

he:   but  this  answer  is  never  given." — Aihenteum,'So.  If 37,  A  March  \%% 
1859,  p.  350. 


AN  ERROR  OP  TWO  PHASES.  88 

The  source  of  our  error,  then,  when  we  mistake  the 
extraordinary  for  the  miraculous,  is  far  more  frequently 
in  our  ignorance  of  what  has  been  than  in  our  false  con- 
ceptions of  what  may  be. 

The  error  itself,  from  either  source  arising,  is  a 
grave  one,  entailing  important  practical  consequences, 
which  have  varied  in  their  prevailing  character  at 
different  periods  of  the  world.  In  our  day  the  usual 
result  is  incredulity,  in  advance  of  examination,  as  to 
all  phenomena  that  seem,  to  our  limited  experience, 
incapable  of  rational  explanation.  One  or  two  cen- 
turies ago  the  same  error  often  assumed  a  different 
form.  When  a  phenomenon  presented  itself  to  the 
men  of  that  day,  the  cause  of  which  they  did  not  com- 
prehend, and  which  seemed  to  them,  for  that  reason,  out 
of  the  course  of  nature,  they  were  wont  to  take  it  for 
granted  that  it  happened  either  through  the  agency  of 
the  devil,  or  else  by  special  interposition  of  the  Deity 
in  attestation  of  some  contested  truth.  Thus,  Racine  re- 
lates what  he  calls  the  miraculous  cure  of  Mademoiselle 
Perrier,  the  niece  of  Pascal,  and  then  an  inmate  of  the 
celebrated  Convent  of  Port  Royal;  and  Pascal  himself 
seeks  to  prove  that  this  miracle  was  necessary  to  religion, 
and  was  performed  in  justification  of  the  nuns  of  that 
convent,  ardent  Jansenists,  and  for  that  reason  under 
the  ban  of  the  Jesuits.  La  Place,  treating  the  whole  as 
imposture,  adduces  it  as  a  lamentable  example — '' afflict- 
ing to  see  and  painful  to  read" — of  that  blind  credulity 
which  is  sometimes  the  weakness  of  great  men.* 

*  See  Introduction  to  his  **  Th€orie  analiftique  de»  Prohabilitit,'*  (7th  ToL 
of  his  works,  Paris,  1847,)  p.  95. 

For  the  story  itself  the  reader  is  referred  to  Racine's  *'AbrSgf  de  VHU- 
soire  de  Port  Royal,"  Paris,  1693,  The  alleged  miracle  occurred  in  1856s 
The  young  girl,  Perrier,  had  been  afflicted  with  a  lachrymal  fistula.  To 
the  diseased  eye  was  applied  a  relic, — said  to  be  a  thorn  from  the  crown 
which  the  Jewish  soldiers  in  mockeiy  plac04  OB  the  head  of  Christ    Tho 


84  SPECIMENS   or   ALLEGED 

The  truth  in  this  case,  as  in  many  others,  may  ra- 
tionally be  sought  between  these  extremes  of  opinion. 
We  cannot,  at  this  distance  of  time,  assume  to  decide 
what  the  precise  facts  were;  but,  without  impeaching 
the  good  faith  of  a  crowd  of  respectable  witnesses,  wo 
may  deem  it  probable  that  the  cure  really  was  an  extra- 
<»rdinary  one,  due,  it  may  be,  to  the  influence  of  the  ex- 
cited mind  over  the  body,  or  to  some  magnetic  or  other 
occult  agency  hitherto  unrecognized  by  science;  at  all 
events,  to  some  natural,  though  hidden,  cause.  Pascal 
and  La  Place  are  doubtless  equally  in  error;  the  latter 
in  denying  that  a  wonderful  cure  was  effected,  the 
former  in  seeking  its  cause  in  the  special  intervention 
of  a  supernatural  power;  in  imagining  that  God  had 


^irl  declared  that  the  touch  had  cured  her.  Some  days  afterward  she  waa 
examined  by  several  physicians  and  surgeons,  who  substantiated  the  fact 
of  her  cure,  and  expressed  the  opinion  that  it  had  not  been  brought  about 
by  medical  treatment,  or  by  any  natural  cause.  Besides  this,  the  cure  was 
attested  not  only  by  all  the  nuns  of  the  convent, — celebrated  over  Europe 
for  their  austerity,' — but  it  is  further  fortified  by  all  the  proof  which  a  mul- 
titude of  witnesses  of  undoubted  character — men  of  the  "world  as  well  as 
physicians — could  bestow  upon  it.  The  Queen  Regent  of  France,  very 
much  prejudiced  against  Port  Royal  as  a  nest  of  Jansenists,  sent  her  own 
surgeon,  M.  Felix,  to  examine  into  the  miracle ;  and  he  returned  an  absolute 
convert.  So  incontestable  was  it  regarded,  even  by  the  enemies  of  the 
nuns,  that  it  actually  saved  their  establishment  for  a  time  from  the  ruin 
with  which  it  was  threatened  by  the  Jesuits, — who  ultimately  succeeded, 
however,  some  fifty-three  years  later,  in  suppressing  the  convent;  it  being 
closed  in  October,  1709,  and  razed  to  the  ground  the  year  after. 

To  Racine — writing  in  1673,  and  therefore  unacquainted  with  these 
facts — the  argument  could  not  occur,  that  God  does  not  suffer  Himself  to 
be  baffled  by  man,  and  that  it  is  difficult  to  imagine  Him  interfering  one 
day  in  support  of  a  cause  which,  the  next,  He  suffers  to  go  down  before 
the  efforts  of  its  enemies. 

But  here  we  approach  a  subject  vailed  from  finite  gaze,  the  intentions  of 
the  Infinite.  We  are  as  little  justified  in  asserting  that  God  had  no  special 
purpose  in  permitting  an  extraordinary  phenomenon,  which  to  the  igno- 
rance of  that  day  seemed  a  miracle,  as  in  assuming  to  decide  what  tKat  pur- 
pope  majT  have  been. 


JANSENIST    MIRACLES.  85 

suspended  for  the  occasion  a  great  law  of  nature,  for  tho 
purpose  of  indorsing  the  five  propositions  of  Jan- 
senius,  of  reprehending  a  certain  religious  order,  and 
of  affording  a  momentary  triumph  to  a  few  persecuted 
nuns 

Similar  errors  have  been  of  frequent  occurrence. 
Perhaps  the  most  striking  example  on  record  is  con- 
tained in  that  extraordinary  episode  in  the  instructive 
history  of  the  mental  epidemics  of  Europe,  the  story 
of  what  have  been  called  the  Convulsionists  of  St. 
Medard.  It  is  to  this  that  Hume  alludes,  in  a  para- 
graph of  the  chapter  from  which  I  have  already  quoted, 
when  he  says, — 

"  There  surely  never  was  a  greater  number  of  miracles 
ascribed  to  one  person  than  those  which  were  lately  said 
to  have  been  wrought  in  France  upon  the  tomb  of  the 
Abbe  Paris,  the  famous  Jansenist,  with  whose  sanctity 
the  people  were  so  long  deluded.  The  curing  of  the 
sick,  giving  hearing  to  the  deaf  and  sight  to  the  blind, 
were  everywhere  talked  of  as  the  usual  effects  of  that 
holy  sepulcher.  But,  what  is  more  extraordinary,  many 
of  the  miracles  were  immediately  proved  upon  the  spot, 
before  judges  of  unquestioned  integrity,  attested  by  wit- 
nesses of  credit  and  distinction,  in  a  learned  age,  and  on 
the  most  eminent  theater  that  is  now  in  the  world.  Nor 
is  this  all :  a  relation  of  them  was  published  and  dis- 
persed everywhere;  nor  were  the  Jesuits,  though  a 
learned  body,  supported  by  the  civil  magistrates,  and 
determined  enemies  to  those  opinions  in  whose  favor 
the  miracles  were  said  to  have  been  wrought,  ever  able 
distinctly  to  refute  or  detect  them.  Where  shall  we  find 
such  a  number  of  circumstances  agreeing  to  the  corro- 
boration of  one  fact  ?  And  what  have  we  to  oppose  to 
such  a  cloud  of  witnesses  but  the  absolute  impos- 
sibility or  miraculous  nature  of  the  events  which  they 
relate?     And  this,  surely,  in  the  eyes  of  all  reason- 


86  Hume's  imprudence. 

ablo  people,  will  alone  be  regarded  as  a  sufficient  refuta- 
tion."* 

Hume  here  places  himself  in  the  category  of  those 
whom  Arago  considers  deficient  in  prudence.  He  pro- 
nounces certain  events  to  be  impossible,  because  they 
are  contrary  to  his  experience.  He  is  misled  by  the 
pretensions  of  those  who  relate  them.  The  eminent 
magistrate  to  whose  elaborate  work  we  are  indebted  for 
a  narrative  of  the  events  in  question  (Carre  de  Mont- 
geron)  assumes  that  they  were  brought  about  by  the 
special  intervention  of  God,  exerted,  at  the  intercession 
of  the  deceased  Abbe,  to  sustain  the  cause  of  the  Jan- 
senist  -Appellants  and  condemn  the  doctrines  of  the 
Bull  Unigenitus.f  Hume  cannot  admit  the  reason  or 
justice  of  such  pretensions.  Nor  can  we.  But  here  we 
must  distinguish.  It  is  one  thing  to  refuse  credit  to  the 
reality  of  the  phenomena,  and  quite  another  to  demur  to 
the  interpretation  put  upon  them.  We  may  admit  the 
existence  of  comets,  yet  deny  that  they  portend  the 


*  Hume's  Essays,  vol.  ii.  p.  133. 

f  "  La  Viriti  des  Miracles  opSris  par  V intercession  de  M.  de  Paris  et  autre* 
Appellans,"  par  M.  Carr6  de  Montggron,  Conseiller  au  Parlement  de  Paris. 
3  vols.  4to,  2d  ed.,  Cologne,  1745. 

I  copy  from  the  advertisement,  p.  5  : — "  H  s'agit  de  miracles  qui  prouvent 
evidemment  I'existence  de  Dieu  et  sa  providence,  la  v6rit6  du  Christianiame, 
la  saintet6  de  I'^glise  Catholique,  et  la  justice  de  la  cause  des  Appellans  de 
la  buUe  Unigenitus." 

The  weight  of  evidence  brought  to  bear,  in  this  extraordinary  work,  in 
proof  of  each  one  of  the  chief  miracles  there  sought  to  be  established,  would 
be  sufficient,  in  a  court  of  justice,  to  convict  twenty  men.  I  doubt  whether 
such  an  overwhelming  mass  of  human  testimony  was  ever  before  thrown 
together  to  sustain  any  class  of  contested  facts. 

I  had  prepared,  and  had  intended  to  give  in  the  present  volume,  a  chap- 
ter containing  a  condensed  narrative  of  this  marvelous  epidemic,  and  the 
phenomena  it  brought  to  light;  also  to  devote  several  other  chapters  to  the 
details  of  other  historical  episodes  somewhat  similar  in  character.  But  the 
subject  grew  under  my.  hands  to  such  dimensions  that  I  was  compelled  to 
exclude  it. 


DISCRIMINATION   OF   MODERN   SCIENCE.  87 

birth  or  death  of  heroes.  The  first  is  a  question  of  fact, 
the  second  only  of  inference  or  imagination. 

This  view  of  the  case  does  not  appear  to  have  sug- 
gested itself  at  the  time  either  to  friend  or  foe.  The 
Jesuit  inquisitors,  unable  to  contest  the  facts,  found 
nothing  for  it  but  to  ascribe  them  to  witchcraft  and  the 
devil.  Nor  did  any  better  mode  occur  to  them  of  re- 
futing Montgeron's  work  than  to  have  it  burned  by  the 
hands  of  the  common  hangman,  on  the  18th  of  Febru- 
ary, 1739. 

Modern  science  is  more  discriminating.  The  best 
medical  writers  on  insanity  and  kindred  subjects,  after 
making  due  allowance  for  the  exaggerations  incident  to 
the  heat  of  controversialism,  and  for  the  inaccuracies 
into  which  an  ignorance  of  physiology  was  sure  to  betray 
inexperienced  observers,  still  find  sufficient  evidence 
remaining  to  prove,  beyond  cavil,  the  reality  of  cer- 
tain cures,  and  other  wonderful  phenomena  exhibited ; 
but  they  seek  the  explanation  of  these  in  natural 
causes.*  They  do  not  imagine  that  the  Deity  suspended 
the  laws  of  nature  in  order  to  disprove  a  papal  bull ;  but 
neither  do  they  declare,  with  Hume,  the  impossibility 
of  the  facts  claimed  to  be  miraculous. 

*  Consult,  for  example,  Dr.  Calmeil's  excellent  work,  **  De  la  Folic,  con- 
tidirie  aoua  le  point  de  vue  pathologique,  philo9ophique,  Kiatorique,  et  Judi- 
ciaire,"  2  vols.,  Paris,  1845.  It  will  be  found  vol.  ii.  pp.  313  to  400,  in  the 
chapter  entitled  "  Thiomanie  Extato-Convuhive  pamii  lea  Janainiatea,"  in 
which  the  subject  is  examined  in  detail,  from  a  medical  point  of  view,  and 
natural  explanations  offered  of  the  phenomena  in  question,  many  of  which 
phenomena  are  of  so  astounding  a  character  that  Hume,  ignorant  as  he  was 
»f  the  effects  produced  in  somnambulism,  during  catalepsy,  and  in  other 
abnormal  states  of  the  human  system,  may  well  be  pardoned  for  his  incre- 
dulity. 

Calmeil  believes — and  it  seems  probable  enough — that  these  convulsions 
cc;istituted  a  nervous  malady  of  an  aggravated  character,  probably  hysteria 
complicated  with  ecstatic  and  cataleptic  symptoms.  He  says,  "  Dds  1732, 
rhyst^rie  se  oompliqua  de  ph^nomdnes  extatiques,  de  ph^nomdnes  oataJ^p- 
tiformes." — Vol.  ii.  p.  395. 


88  SPIRITUAL   AGENCY,   IF   SUCH 

A  judgment  similar  to  that  which  the  Scottish  his- 
torian, more  than  a  century  ago,  passed  on  the  miracles 
of  St.  Medard,  is  passed  in  our  day,  by  a  large  majority 
of  the  world,  on  all  alleged  appearances  or  agencies  of 
an  ultramundane  character.  The  common  opinion  is, 
that  such  things  cannot  happen  except  miraculously  3 
that  is,  by  special  intervention  of  the  Deity,  and  a  tem- 
porary suspension  by  Him,  in  favor  of  certain  persons, 
of  one  or  more  of  the  laws  which  govern  the  universe. 
And,  as  they  cannot  believe  in  miracles,  they  reject,  un- 
examined, all  evidence  tending  to  establish  the  reality 
of  such  phenomena. 

I  am  not  here  asserting  that  such  phenomena  do 
occur.  I  am  but  adducing  evidence  for  the  opinion  that, 
if  they  do,  they  are  as  much  the  result  of  natural  law  as 
is  a  rainbow  or  a  thunder-clap.  I  am  seeking  to  show 
cause  to  the  believers  in  their  existence  why  they  should 
cease  to  attach  to  them  any  inkling  of  the  supernatural. 

Numerous  examples  of  these  alleged  phenomena  will 
be  found  in  succeeding  chapters.  Meanwhile,  assuming 
for  a  moment  the  affirmative  on  this  point,  I  might 
found,  on  mere  general  principles,  an  argument  in  con- 
nection with  it.  To  a  question  naturally  suggesting  it- 
self, namely,  to  what  end  God  permits  (if  He  does  per- 
mit) ultramundane  intercourse,  I  might  reply,  that  it  is 
doubtless  for  a  purpose  as  comprehensive  as  benevolent; 
that  we  may  reasonably  imagine  Him  to  be  opening  up 
to  our  race  a  medium  of  more  certain  knowledge  of 
another  world,  in  order  to  give  fresh  impulse  to  oui 
onward  progress  toward  wisdom  and  goodness  in  this, 
and  more  especially  to  correct  that  absorbing  worldli- 
ness,  the  besetting  sin  of  the  present  age,  creeping  over 
its  civilization  and  abasing  its  noblest  aspirings.  And, 
if  these  be  admitted  as  rational  surmises,  I  might  go  on 
to  ask  how  we  may  suppose  that  God  would  be  likely  to 
carry  out  such  an  intent; — whether,  after  a  partial  and 


THERB  BE;   IS   NOT   MIRACULOUS.  S9 

exceptional  fashion,  by  an  obtrusive  suspension  of  IIi» 
own  laws  for  the  benefit  of  a  few  favored  children  of 
preference,  or,  under  the  operation  of  the  universal 
order  of  Nature,  to  the  common  advantage  of  all  His 
creatures,  in  silent  impartiality  and  harmony,  as  lie  causes 
the  morning  sun  to  rise  and  the  evening  dews  to  fall. 

1  might  proceed  a  step  further,  and  inquire  whether, 
if  such  an  extension  of  our  earthly  horizon  enter  into 
(jod's  design,  it  can  rationally  be  imagined  that  the 
(rreat  Framer  should  find  His  purpose  thwarted  by  the 
laws  Himself  had  framed ;  or  whether  it  does  not  far 
better  comport  with  just  ideas  of  God's  omnipotence  and 
omniprescience  to  conclude  that,  in  the  original  adjust- 
ment of  the  world's  economy,  such  a  contingency  was 
foreseen  and  provided  for,  as  surely  as  every  other 
iiuman  need  has  been. 

Such  arguments  might  not  unfairly  be  made.  Yet 
all  a  'priori  reasoning  touching  God's  intentions,  and  the 
means  we  imagine  He  may  select  to  effect  these,  seem 
to  me  hazarded  and  inconclusive.  1  think  we  do  better 
10  take  note  of  God's  doings  than  to  set  about  conjec- 
turing His  thoughts,  which,  we  are  told,  are  not  as 
ours.  It  is  safer  to  reason  from  our  experience  of  His 
works  than  from  our  conceptions  of  His  attributes ;  for 
these  are  wrapped  in  mystery,  while  those  are  spread 
open  before  us. 

1  rest  the  case,  therefore,  not  on  the  vagueness  of 
general  induction,  but  on  the  direct  evidence  of  pheno- 
mena observed.  That  evidence  will  be  adduced  in  its 
proper  place.  Suffice  it  for  the  present  to  express  my 
jonviction,  based  on  experimental  proof,  that,  if  the 
Deity  is  now  permitting  communication  between  mortal 
creatures  in  this  stage  of  existence  and  disembodied 
spirits  in  another.  He  is  employing  natural  causes  and 
general  laws  to  effect  His  object  j  not  resorting  for  that 
purpose  to  the  occasional  and  the  miraculous. 


00  butler's  and  tillotson's 


Note. 


It  will  be  evident,  to  the  rcfiecting  reader,  that  the 
argument  running  through  the  preceding  chapter  ap- 
plies only  in  so  far  as  we  may  accept  the  popular  defini- 
tion of  a  miracle;  the  same  adopted  by  Hume.  Some 
able  theologians  have  assumed  a  very  different  one; 
Butler,  for  example,  in  his  well-known  "Analogy  of  Ee- 
ligion,"  in  which  he  favors  a  view  of  the  subject  not 
very  dissimilar  to  that  taken  by  myself.  "There  is  a 
real  credibility,"  says  he,  "in  the  supposition  that  it 
might  be  part  of  the  original  plan  of  things  that  there 
(Should  be  miraculous  interpositions."  And  he  leaves  it 
in  doubt  whether  we  ought  "  to  call  every  thing  in  the 
dispensations  of  Providence  not  discoverable  without 
Revelation,  nor  like  the  known  course  of  things,  mira- 
culous."* 

Another  distinguished  prelate  speaks  more  plainly 
still.  In  one  of  his  sermons  Archbishop  Tillotson  says, 
"It  is  not  the  essence  of  a  miracle  (as  many  have 
thought)  that  it  be  an  immediate  effect  of  the  Divine 
Power.  It  is  sufficient  that  it  exceed  any  natural  power 
that  we  know  of  to  produce  it."f 

This  is  totally  changing  the  commonly-received  defi- 
nition. If  we  are  not  to  regard  it  as  "the  essence  of  a 
miracle  that  it  be  an  immediate  effect  of  the  Divine 
Power," — if  we  may  properly  call  any  occurrence  mira- 
culous which  is  not  "like  the  known  course  of  things," — 
if  we  may  declare  each  and  every  phenomenon  a  miracle 
which  "exceeds  any  natural  power  that  we  know  of  to 
produce  it," — then  it  is  evident  that  the  miracle  of  one 
age  may  be  the  natural  event  of  the  succeeding.  In 
this  sense  we  are  living,  even  now,  amojig  miracles. 

Nor,  if  in  this  we  follow  Butler  and  Tillotson,  are  we 

*  "Analogy  of  Religion  to  the  Conatitutioi  and  Course  of  Nature,"  Part  II., 
ehap.  2.  f  Semon  CI-XXXII. 


IDEAS   OF   MIRACLES.  91 

at  all  invalidating  the  efficacy  of  the  early  Christian 
miracles.  Their  influence  on  the  minds  of  men  was  the 
same  whether  they  were  the  result  of  partial  or  of 
general  laws.  In  point  of  fact,  they  did  attract  atten- 
tion and  add  force  to  the  teachings  of  a  system,  the 
innate  beauty  and  moral  grandeur  of  which  was  insuffi- 
cient to  recommend  it  to  the  semi-barbarism  of  the  day. 
Whatever  their  character,  they  did  their  work.  And 
the  mistake  as  to  that  character,  if  mistake  it  is  to  be 
termed,  may  have  been  the  very  means  ordained  by 
Providence  to  cherish  and  advance,  in  its  infancy,  a 
religion  of  peace  and  good  will  springing  up  in  an  age 
of  war  and  discord.  Nor,  in  one  sense,  was  the  error, 
if  as  such  we  are  to  regard  it,  one  of  essence,  but  rather 
of  manner.  The  signs  and  wonders  which  broke  in 
upon  the  indifference  and  awoke  the  belief  of  Jew  and 
Gentile,  whether  they  were  produced  by  momentary 
suspension  of  law  or  by  its  preordained  operation,  were 
equally  His  work  from  whom  all  law  proceeds.  And 
shall  we  appreciate  God's  handiwork  the  less  because, 
in  the  progress  of  His  teachings,  He  gradually  unfolds 
to  us  the  mode  in  which  He  moves  to  perform  it  ?  Then 
in  heaven  we  should  less  venerate  Him  than  upon  earth. 

Is  it  an  unreasonable  surmise  that  it  may  be  God's 
purpose  to  raise  the  vail  of  eighteen  hundred  years,  in 
proportion  as  our  eyes  can  bear  the  light;  in  proportion 
as  our  minds  can  take  in  the  many  things  which  Christ 
taught  not,  in  His  day,  to  those  who  could  not  bear 
ihem;  in  proportion  as  we  are  prepared  to  receive 
Christianity,  for  its  intrinsic  excellence  and  on  its  in- 
ternal evidence,  without  the  aid  of  extraneous  warrant? 

But  I  put  forth  these  suggestions,  touching,  as  they 
•io,  on  matters  beyond  our  ken,  incidentally  and  hypo- 
thetically  only.  They  are  not  essential  to  my  argument, 
nor  strictly  included  in  its  pui'pose ;  that  being  to  treat 
of  modern,  not  of  ancient,  miracles. 


CHAPTEE  lY. 

THE   IMPROBABLE. 

••It  may  be  said,  speaking  in  strictness,  that  almost  all  our  knowledge 
consists  of  possibilities  only." — La.  Place:  ThSorie  des  Probabilitie,  Introd. 
p.l. 

In  quest  of  truth  there  are  two  modes  of  proceeding : 
the  one,  to  sit  down,  draw  upon  one^s  stock  of  precon- 
ceptions ;  settle,  before  we  enter  upon  an  inquiry,  what 
may  be,  or  ought  to  be,  or  must  be ;  make  to  ourselves, 
in  advance,  what  we  call  clear  ideas  of  the  naturally 
possible  and  impossible;  then  sally  forth,  armed  against 
all  non-conforming  novelties,  and  with  a  fixed  purpose 
to  waste  no  time  in  their  examination.  The  other  plan, 
more  modest  and  Baconian,  is  to  step  out  into  the 
world,  eyes  and  ears  open,  an  unpledged  spectator,  our 
fagot  of  opinions  still  unbound  and  incomplete;  no  sucli 
screen  as  a  viust  be  set  up  to  prevent  our  seeing  and 
hearing  whatever  presents  itself;  no  ready-made  impos- 
sibility prepared  to  rule  out  reliable  testimony;  no  pre- 
judgment barring  the  way  against  evidence  for  impro- 
babilities. 

Few  persons  realize  how  arbitrary  and  unreliable  may 
be  the  notions  they  keep  on  hand  of  the  improbable. 
We  laugh  at  Jack's  mother,  who,  when  her  sailor  son 
sought  to  persuade  her  there  were  flying-fish,  resented 
the  attempt  as  an  insult  to  her  understanding,  but 
accepted,  unquestioned,  the  young  rogue's  story  about 
one  of  Pharaoh's  chariot-wheels  brought  up  on  the 
anchor-fluke  from  the  bottom  of  the  Eed  Sea.  Yet  the 
old  lady  is  one  of  a  large  class,  numbering  learned  and 


AEROLITES.  98 

lettered  celebrities  among  its  members,  who  have  their 
riying-fish,  insulting  to  the  understanding,  as  well  as  she. 
These  are  a  frequent  phenomenon  within  the  precincts 
of  scientific  academies  and  royal  institutions. 

We  forget,  after  a  time,  what  have  been  the  flying- 
fish  of  the  past.  It  needs  official  reference  to  convince 
us  now  that  for  nearly  half  a  century  after  Harvey's 
brilliant  discovery  the  Paris  Academy  of  Medicine 
listened  to  those  who  classed  it  among  the  impossibili- 
ties.* "We  have  almost  forgotten  that,  until  the  com- 
mencement of  the  present  century,  the  old  ladies  of  the 
scientific  world  rejected,  as  resentfully  as  their  proto- 
type of  the  story,  all  allegations  going  to  prove  the 
reality  of  aerolites.f 

Meteoric  stones  and  the  circulation  of  the  blood  have 
now  lost  their  piscatory  character,  are  struck  off  the 

♦  In  the  records  of  the  Paris  Royal  Society  of  Medicine  we  read  that, 
as  late  as  the  year  1672,  a  candidate  for  membership,  Francois  Bazin,  sought 
to  conciliate  the  favor  of  that  learned  body  by  selecting  as  his  theme  the 
impossibility  of  the  circulation  of  the  blood  ;  {*'  ergo  aartguinU  mofua  circu- 
laria  impoastbilis.")  Harvey  had  given  to  the  world  his  great  discovery  in 
the  year  1628;  but  forty-four  years  sufficed  not  to  procure  for  it  the  sanction 
of  official  medical  authority  in  the  French  capital. 

f  The  fall  of  larger  or  smaller  mineral  masses,  usually  called  meteoric 
stones,  was  long  set  down  by  the  scientific  world  as  among  popular  fables, 
notwithstanding  the  testimony  of  all  antiquity  in  its  favor.  Stones  alleged 
to  have  dropped  from  heaven  were  preserved  in  various  ancient  temples,  as 
at  Cybele.  Plutarch,  in  his  life  of  Lysander,  describes  a  celebrated  aerolite 
which  fell  in  Thrace,  near  the  mouth  of  the  ^gos  Potamos.  But  these  and 
a  hundred  other  analogous  cases,  recorded  throughout  the  past,  failed  to 
dispel  scientific  incredulity,  until  Chladni,  a  naturalist  of  Wurtemberg, 
verified  the  fall  of  a  meteorite  at  Sienna,  in  Tuscany,  on  the  16th  of  June, 
1794.  His  report  of  the  marvel  staggered  the  skepticism  of  many.  Yet  it 
was  not  till  nine  years  afterward — when,  to  wit,  on  the  26th  of  April,  1803, 
an  aerolite  fell  in  broad  daylight  at  L'Aigle,  in  Normandy — that  all  doubt 
was  removed.  The  Paris  Academy  of  Sciences  appointed  a  commission  to 
institute  inquiries  into  this  case;  and  their  report  settled  the  question. 
Howard,  an  English  naturalist,  afterward  prepared  a  list  of  all  the  aerolites 
known  to  have  fallen  on  our  earth  up  to  the  year  1818;  and  Chladni  con- 
tinued the  list  to  the  year  1824. 


94  A  poet's  logic. 

list  of  impossibilities,  and  inserted  in  the  accredited 
catalogue  of  scientific  truths.  It  used  to  be  vulgar  and 
ridiculous  to  admit  them;  now  the  vulgarity  and  ab- 
surdity consist  in  denying  their  existence. 

Mesmeric  phenomena,  on  the  other  hand,  are  an 
example  of  improbabilities  that  have  not  yet  passed 
muster. 

"  When  I  was  in  Paris,"  says  Eogers,  (the  poet,)  in  his 
"  Table-Talk,'*  "  I  went  to  Alexis,  and  desired  him  to  de- 
scribe my  house  in  St.  James  Place.  On  my  word,  he 
astonished  me!  He  described  most  exactly  the  pecu- 
liarities of  the  staircase;  said  that  not  far  from  the 
window  in  the  drawing-room  there  was  a  picture  of  a 
man  in  armor,  (the  painting  by  Giorgone,)  and  so  on. 
Colonel  Gurwood,  shortly  before  his  death,  assured  mo 
that  he  was  reminded  by  Alexis  of  some  circumstances 
that  had  happened  to  him  in  Spain,  and  which  he  could 
not  conceive  how  any  human  being  except  himself  should 
know.  Still,  I  cannot  believe  in  clairvoyance, — because 
the  thing  is  impossible.''"^ 

Kot  because  the  opportunities,  for  observation  were 
too  few,  and  the  experiments  needed  repetition:  that 
would  have  been  a  valid  objection.  Not  because  the  evi- 
dence was  imperfect  and  lacked  confirmation  :  Pogers's 
difficulty  was  a  more  radical  one.  No  evidence  would 
suffice.  Fish  cannot  have  wings :  the  thing  ie  impos- 
sible.f 

*  Let  us  deal  fairly  by  Science,  and  give  her  the  credit  of  this  quotation. 
I  found  it  in  the  (London)  Medical  Times  and  Gazette,  No.  444,  new  «eries ; 
and  the  italics  are  not  mine,  but  those  of  the  medical  editor. 

t  Rogers  evidently  had  never  read  La  Place's  celebrated  work  on  Proba- 
bilities, or  else  he  did  not  agree  with  its  doctrine.  Witness  this  passag* : — 
"  It  is  exceedingly  unphilosophical  to  deny  magnetic  phenomena  merely 
because  they  are  inexplicable  in  the  present  state  of  our  knowledge."^ 
Calcul  des  Probabilitia,  p.  348. 

It  is  remarkable  enough  that  in  a  matter  like  this,  usually  deemed  to 
savor  of  imagination,  the  mathematician  should  reprove  the  ineredulitj  of 
the  poei. 


FORM£R   IMPROBABILITIES.  95 

An  example  of  graver  character  and  more  influential 
effect  is  to  be  found  in  a  lecture,  delivered  in  1854,  at 
the  Koyal  Institution,  before  Prince  Albert  and  a  select 
audience,  by  England's  first  electrician.  Kogers's  flying- 
fish  was  clairvoyance ;  Faraday's  is  table-moving. 

But  if  great  men  fall  into  one  extreme,  let  us  not,  for 
that  reason,  be  betrayed  into  another.  Let  us  bear  in 
mind  that,  antecedent  to  sufficient  proof  adduced  to  es- 
tablish them,  the  circulation  of  the  blood,  the  fall  of  me- 
teorites, the  phenomena  of  clairvoyance,  the  reality  of 
table-moving, — all  are,  or  were,  improbabilities. 

But  there  are  few  propositions  to  which  the  common 
sense  of  mankind,  indorsing  the  most  accredited  scien- 
tific authority,*  assents  more  readily,  or  with  gi-eater 
justice,  than  this:  that  in  proportion  as  an  event  or 
phenomenon  is  in  its  nature  improbable  is  greater  weight 
of  evidence  required  to  produce  a  rational  belief  in  its 
reality. 

The  converse  of  this  proposition,  it  is  true,  has  been 
plausibly  argued,  sometimes  where  one  would  least  ex- 
pect to  find  an  apology  for  credulity  ;f  but  men  have  been 
so  frequently  deceivers,  and  so  much  more  frequently 
themselves  deceived,  that,  when  their  testimony  is  ad- 
duced to  prove  something  of  a  marvelous  and  unexampled 
nature,  every  dictate  of  experience  warns  us  against  its 
reception,  except  after  severest  scrutiny,  or  the  concur- 
rence, when  that  can  be  had,  of  many  disinterested 
witnesses,  testifying  independently  of  each  other. 

The  argument,  however,  in  regard  to  the  weight  of 
evidence  which  may  be  procured  through  such  concur- 
rence of  testimony  to  one  and  the  same  fact,  has,  in  my 

*  "  Plus  un  fait  eat  extraordinaire,  plus  il  a  besoin  d'etre  appuj6  de  fortea 
preuves.  Car  ceux  qui  I'attestent  pouvant  ou  tromper,  ou  avoir  6t6  tromp^s, 
ees  deux  causes  sont  d'autant  plus  probables  que  la  r^alit^  du  fait  Test  moins 
vn  elle-m£me." — La  Place  :  Thiorie  analytique  den  Probabilitit,  Introd.  p  12. 

f  As  ID  the  French  Encyclopedia,  article  "Certitude." 


96  ARCrUMENT   AS   TO 

judgment,  sometimes  been  pushed  beyond  what  it  will 
bear.  Where  human  testimony  enters  as  an  element 
into  the  calculation,  its  disturbing  agency  may  be  such 
as  to  weaken,  almost  to  the  point  of  overthrowing,  the 
force  of  all  strictly  mathematical  demonstration. 

Thus,  in  substance,  has  the  argument  been  put.* 
Let  us  suppose  two  persons,  A.  and  B.,  of  such  a  cha- 
racter for  veracity  and  clear-sightedness  that  the  chances 
are  that  they  will  speak  the  truth,  and  will  avoid  being 
deceived,  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten.  And  let  us  suppose 
that  these  two  persons,  absolutely  unknown  to  and  un- 
connected with  each  other,  are  about  to  testify  in  regard 
to  any  fact.  "What  are  the  chances  that,  if  their  testi- 
mony shall  agree,  the  fact  has  happened? 

Evidently,  a  hundred  to  one.  For  if  their  testimony 
agree  and  the  fact  has  not  happened,  there  must  be  a 
concurrent  lie  or  self-deception.  But,  as,  in  the  first 
place,  the  chances  are  ten  to  one  against  A.  lying  or 
being  deceived,  and  then,  in  the  contingency  that  he 
should  be,  the  chances  are  again  ten  to  one  against  B. 
failing  to  relate  the  truth,  it  is  evident  that  the  chances 
against  the  double  event  are  ten  times  ten  (or  one  hun- 
dred) to  one. 

Pursuing  the  same  calculation,  we  find  that,  in  the 
event  of  three  such  witnesses  concurring,  the  chances 
are  a  thousand  to  one  against  the  falsehood  of  their  tes- 
timony; if  four  such  concur,  ten  thousand  to  one;  and  so 
on.  So  that  it  requires  but  a  small  number  of  such  wit- 
nesses to  establish  a  degree  of  probability  which,  in 
practice,  is  scarcely  short  of  certainty  itself. 

*  The  reader  may  consult  La  Place's  "Theorie  analytique  dee  Proha- 
bilitea,"  where  all  the  calculations  connected  with  this  argument  are  given 
in  detail ;  or,  if  unprepared  for  the  difficulties  of  Calculus,  he  will  find  the 
matter  set  out  in  more  condensed  and  popular  form,  by  Babbage,  in  his 
*' Ninth  Bridgcwater  Treatise,"  2d  ed.,  pp.  124  to  131;  and  in  Note  E  of 
Appendix  to  the  same  work. 


CONCUREENCE   OF   TESTIMONY.  97 

And,  following  out  this  principle,  it  will  be  found 
that,  if  we  can  but  procure  witnesses  of  such  a  character 
that  it  is  more  probable  that  their  testimony  is  true  than 
that  it  is  false,  we  can  always  assign  a  sufficient  number 
of  such  to  establish  the  occurrence  of  any  event  or  the 
reality  of  any  phenomenon,  no  matter  how  improbable 
or  marvelous  such  event  or  phenomenon,  in  itself  con- 
sidered, may  be. 

If  the  postulates  be  granted,  these  conclusions  clearly 
follow;  and  they  have  been  employed  by  Dr.  Chalmers* 
and  others,  in  treating  of  miracles,  to  illustrate  the  great 
accumulation  of  probability  which  arises  from  the  con- 
currence of  independent  witnesses. 

The  difficulty  lies  in  the  postulates.  It  seems,  at 
first,  a  very  easy  matter  to  find  witnesses  of  such  mo- 
derate veracity  and  intelligence  that  we  are  justified 
in  declaring  it  to  be  more  probable  that  their  testimony 
shall  be  true  than  that  it  shall  be  false. 

As  to  willful  falsehood,  the  matter  is  beyond  doubt. 
Let  cynicism  portray  the  world  as  it  will,  there  is  far 
more  of  truth  than  of  falsehood  in  it.  But  as  to  free- 
dom from  self-deception,  that  is  a  condition  much  more 
difficult  to  obtain.  It  depends  to  a  great  extent  upon 
the  nature  of  the  event  witnessed  or  the  phenomenon 
observed. 

An  extreme  case  may  assure  us  of  this.  If  two  in- 
dependent witnesses  of  good  character  depose  to  having 
seen  a  market-woman  count  out  six  dozen  eggs  from 
a  basket  which  was  evidently  of  capacity  sufficient  to 
contain  them,  we  deem  the  fact  sufficiently  proved. 
But  if  two  thousand  witnesses  of  equally  good  character 
testify  that  they  saw  Signor  Blitz  or  Robert-Houdin 
take  that  number  of  eggs  out  of  an  ordinary-sized  hat. 
they  fail  to  convince  us  that  the  hat  really  contained 


*  "En'dencex  of  Christian  Revelation"  vol.  i.  p.  129. 
0  9 


99  MISLEADING    INFLUENCE    OF   THE 

them.  We  conclude  that  they  were  deceived  by  sleight 
of  hand. 

Here,  therefore,  the  postulates  must  be  rejected.  And, 
without  speaking  of  mathematical  impossibilities,  in  re- 
gard to  which,  of  course,  no  imaginable  number  of  con- 
current witnesses  avail  in  proof,  the  character  of  tho 
event  or  phenomenon  testified  to  must  ever  count  for 
much;  and,  whatever  theorists  may  say,  it  will  always 
greatly  influence  our  opinion,  not  perhaps  of  the 
honesty,  but  of  the  freedom  from  delusion,  of  the  testi- 
fiers. So  that,  in  a  case  where  proof  of  some  marvel  is 
in  question,  the  assumed  condition,  namely,  that  we 
shall  find  witnesses  whom  we  believe  more  likely  to 
speak  the  truth  than  to  lie  or  be  deceived,  may  not  be 
capable  of  fulfillment. 

And  the  difficulty  of  procuring  such  may,  under  cer- 
tain circumstances,  greatly  increase.  There  are  mental 
as  well  as  physical  epidemics,  and  during  their  preva- 
lence men's  minds  may  be  so  morbidly  excited,  and 
their  imaginations  so  exalted,  that  entire  masses  may 
become  incapacitated  to  serve  as  dispassionate  witnesses. 

There  is  another  consideration,  noticed  by  Hume  in 
his  chapter  on  Miracles,  which  should  not  be  over- 
looked. "Though  we  readily  reject,''  says  he,  "any 
fact  which  is  unusual  and  incredible  in  an  ordinary  de- 
gree, yet,  in  advancing  further,  the  mind  observes  not 
always  the  same  rule."  We  sometimes  accept,  he 
thinks,  a  statement  made  to  us,  for  the  very  reason 
which  should  cause  us  to  reject  it;  on  account  of  its 
ultra-marvelous  character  The  reason  is  shrewdly 
assigned: — "The  passion  of  surprise  and  wonder  arising 
from  miracles,  being  an  agreeable  emotion,  gives  a 
sensible  tendency  toward  the  belief  of  those  events 
from  which  it  is  derived."*     In  a  word,  we  should  be  on 

*  Hume's  Essays,  vol.  ii.  p.  125. 


LOVE   OF   THE    MARV^ELOUS.  99 

our  guard  against  that  love  of  the  marvelous  which  wo 
find  inherent  in  our  nature. 

These  and  similar  considerations  will  ever  weigh  with 
the  prudent  and  reflecting  observer.  Yet  it  is  to  bo 
conceded,  that  the  principle  above  referred  to,  of  the 
vast  accumulation  of  evidence  from  the  concurrence  of 
reliable  witnesses,  is  not  only  just,  mathematically  con- 
sidered, but,  in  a  variety  of  cases,  strictly  applies  in 
practice. 

If  we  find,  for  instance,  at  different  periods  of  the 
world  and  in  various  nations,  examples  constantly  re- 
curring of  men  testifymg  to  certain  phenomena  of  the 
same  or  a  similar  character,  then,  though  these  alleged 
phenomena  may  seem  to  us  highly  improbable,  we  are 
not  justified  in  ascribing  the  concurrence  of  such  testi- 
mony to  chance.  We  are  not  justified  in  setting  down 
the  whole  as  idle  superstition;  though  in  these  modem 
days  it  is  very  much  the  fashion  of  the  world,  proud 
of  having  outgrown  its  nursery-tales,  so  to  do.  Dis- 
gusted by  detecting  a  certain  admixture  of  error  and  folly, 
we  often  cast  aside  an  entire  class  of  narrations  as  wholly 
baseless  and  absurd;  forgetting  that  when,  at  remote 
periods,  at  distant^points,  without  possibility  of  collusion, 
there  spring  up,  again  and  again,  the  same  or  similar  ap- 
pearances, such  coincidence  ought  to  suggest  to  us  the 
probability  that  something  more  enduring  than  delu- 
sion may  be  mixed  in  to  make  up  the  producing  cause.* 

*  "Take  any  one  of  what  are  called  popular  errors  or  popular  supersti- 
tions, and  on  looking  at  it  thoroughly  we  shall  be  sure  to  discover  in  it  a 
firm,  underlying  stratum  of  truth.  There  may  be  more  than  we  suspected 
of  folly  and  of  fancy;  but  when  these  are  stripped  ofiF  there  remains  quite 
enough  of  that  stiff,  unyielding  material  which  belongs  not  to  persons  or 
periods,  but  is  common  to  all  ages,  to  puzzle  the  learned  and  silence  the 
•coffer." — RuTTER :   Human  Electricity,  Appendix,  p.  rii. 

To  the  same  effect  is  the  expression  of  a  celebrated  French  philosopner : — 
"  In  every  error  there  is  a  kernel  of  truth :  let  us  seek  to  detach  that 
kernel  from  the  envelop  that  hides  it  from  our  eyes." — Baillt. 


IOC  HAUNTED    HOUSES. 

It  is  truth  only  that  is  tenacious  of  life,  and  that  rises, 
with  recurring  effort,  throughout  the  lapse  of  ages, 
elastic  under  repression  and  contempt. 

Let  us  take,  as  an  example,  that  description  of  popular 
stories  which  relate  to  haunted  houses,  the  universal  pre- 
valence of  which  is  admitted  by  those  who  the  most 
ridicule  the  idea  that  they  prove  any  thing  save  the  folly 
and  credulity  of  mankind.*  Is  it  the  part  of  Philosophy 
contemptuously  to  ignore  all  evidence  that  may  present 
itself  in  favor  of  the  reality  of  such  alleged  disturb- 
ances? 

It  may  be  freely  conceded,  that  for  many  of  the 
stories  in  question  no  better  foundation  can  be  found 
than  those  panic  terrors  which  are  wont  to  beset  the 
ignorant  mind;  that  others,  doubtless,  are  due  to  a 
mere   spirit  of  mischief  seeking  to  draw  amusement 


*  "Who  has  not  either  seen  or  heard  of  some  house,  shut  up  and  unin- 
habitable, fallen  into  decay  and  looking  dusty  and  dreary,  from  which  at 
midnight  strange  sounds  have  been  heard  to  issue, — aerial  knockings, 
the  rattling  of  chains  and  the  groaning  of  perturbed  spirits? — a  house  that 
people  have  thought  it  unsafe  to  pass  after  dark,  that  has  remained  for 
years  without  a  tenant,  and  which  no  tenant  would  occupy,  even  were  he 
paid  to  do  so?  There  are  hundreds  of  such  houses  in  England  at  the  pre- 
sent day,  hundreds  in  France,  Germany,  and  almost  every  country  of 
Europe;  which  are  marked  with  the  mark  of  fear, — places  for  the  pious  to 
bless  themselves  at,  and  ask  protection  from,  as  they  pass, — the  abodes  of 
ghosts  and  evil  spirits.  There  are  many  such  houses  in  London ;  and  if 
any  vain  boaster  of  the  march  of  intellect  would  but  take  the  trouble  to 
find  them  out  and  count  them,  he  would  be  convinced  that  intellect  must 
yet  make  some  enormous  strides  before  such  old  superstitions  can  be  eradi- 
cated."— ilackay's  Popular  Delusions,  vol.  ii.  p.  113.  The  author  does  not 
deem  the  hypothesis  that  there  is  any  thing  real  in  such  phenomena  worth 
adverting  to,  even  as  among  possible  things. 

Nor  was  the  idea  of  haunted  houses  less  commonly  received  in  ancient 
times  than  among  us.  Plautus  has  a  comedy  entitled  Mostellaria,  from  a 
specter  said  to  have  shown  itself  in  a  certain  house,  which  on  that  account 
was  deserted.  The  particular  story  may  have  been  invented  by  the  dra- 
matist; but  it  suffices  to  indicate  the  antiquity  of  the  idea.-  -PlauU  MotteU , 
Act  ii.  V.  67. 


THE    MONKS   OF   CHANTTLLY.  101 

from  these  very  terrors;  and,  finally,  that  there  are 
instances  where  the  mystification  may  have  covered 
graver  designs.*  But  because  there  are  counterfeits,  is 
there  therefore  no  true  coin?  May  there  not  be  ori- 
ginals to  these  spurious  copies? 

In  another  part  of  this  work  I  shall  bring  up  the  evi- 

♦  One  such  is  related  by  Garinet,  in  his  "Histoire  de  la  Magie  en 
France,"  (p.  75;)  a  clever  trick  played  oflF  by  certain  monks  on  that  king 
whose  piety  has  procured  for  him  the  title  of  "  The  Saint." 

Having  heard  bis  confessor  speak  in  high  terms  of  the  goodness  and 
learning  of  the  monks  of  St.  Bruno,  the  king  expressed  a  desire  to  found  a 
community  of  them  near  Paris.  Bernard  de  la  Tour,  the  superior,  sent  six 
of  the  brethren;  and  Louis  assigned  to  them,  sis  residence,  a  handsome 
dwelling  in  the  village  of  Chantilly.  It  so  happened  that  from  their  win- 
dows they  had  a  fine  view  of  the  old  palace  of  Vauvert,  originally  erected 
for  a  royal  residence  by  King  Robert,  but  which  had  been  deserted  for 
years.  The  worthy  monks,  oblivious  of  the  tenth  commandment,  may 
have  thought  the  place  would  suit  them;  but  ashamed,  probably,  to  make 
a  formal  demand  of  it  from  the  king,  they  seem  to  have  set  their  wits  to 
work  to  procure  it  by  stratagem.  At  all  events,  the  palace  of  Vauvert, 
which  had  never  labored  under  any  imputation  against  its  character  till 
they  became  its  neighbors,  began,  almost  immediately  afterward,  to  ac- 
quire a  bad  name.  Frightful  shrieks  were  heard  to  proceed  thence  at 
night;  blue,  red,  and  green  lights  were  seen  to  glimmer  from  its  case- 
ments and  then  suddenly  disappear.  The  clanking  of  chains  succeeded, 
together  with  the  bowlings  of  persons  as  in  great  pain.  Then  a  ghastly 
specter,  in  pea-green,  with  long,  white  beard  and  serpent's  tail,  appeared  at 
the  principal  windows,  shaking  his  fists  at  the  passers-by.  This  went  on 
for  months.  The  king,  to  whom  of  course  all  these  wonders  were  duly  re- 
ported, deplored  the  scandal,  and  sent  commissioners  to  look  into  the  affair. 
To  these  the  six  monks  of  Chantilly,  indignant  that  the  devil  should  play 
such  pranks  before  their  very  faces,  suggested  that  if  they  could  but  have 
the  palace  as  a  residence  they  would  undertake  speedily  to  clear  it  of  all 
ghostly  intruders.  A  deed,  with  the  royal  sign-manual,  conveyed  Vauvert 
to  the  monks  of  St.  Bruno.  It  bears  the  date  of  1259.  From  that  time  all 
disturbances  ceased;  the  green  ghost,  according  to  the  creed  of  the  pious, 
being  laid  to  rest  forever  under  the  waters  of  the  Red  Sea. 

Another  instance,  occurring  in  the  Chateau  d'Arsillier,  in  Picardy,  will 
be  found  in  the  "  Causes  Cil^bres,"  vol.  xi.  p.  374 ;  the  bailiff  having 
dressed  himself  up  as  a  black  phantom,  with  horns  and  tail,  and  guaran- 
teed himself  against  the  chance  of  a  pistol-shot  bj  a  buffalo's  hide  fitted 
Jightly  to  his  body.     He  was  finally  detected,  and  the  cb  .'at  exposed. 


102  THE   MENTAL   EPIDEMICS 

dences  which  present  themselves  to  one  who  seriously 
seeks  an  answer  to  the  above  queries.*  Let  those  who 
may  decide,  in  advance,  that  the  answer  is  not  worth 
seeking,  be  reminded  that  there  are  twenty  allegations 
which  are  worthy  to  be  examined,  for  every  one  that 
may  be  unhesitatingly  received. 

Again,  there  is  a  class  of  phenomena,  as  widely 
spread  as  the  disturbances  above  alluded  to, — probably 
somewhat  allied  to  them,  but  more  important  than 
they, — to  which  the  same  principle  in  regard  to  the 
concurrence  of  testimony  in  various  ages  and  countries 
eminently  applies;  those  strange  appearances,  namely, 
which,  for  lack  of  a  more  definite  term,  may  be  grouped 
together  as  mesmeric. 

Without  seeking,  amid  the  obscurity  of  remote  an- 
tiquity, a  clew  to  all  that  we  read  of  the  so-called 
Occult  Arts, — as  among  the  magicians  of  Egypt,  the 
soothsayers  and  diviners  of  Judea,  the  sibyls  and 
oracles  of  Greece  and  Eome,f — we  shall  find,  in  later 
times,  but  commencing  long  before  the  appearance  of 
Mesmer,  a  succession  of  phenomena,  with  resem- 
blance sufficient  to  substantiate  their  common  origin, 
and  evidently  referable  to  the  same  unexplained  and 
hidden  causes,  operating  during  an  abnormal  state 
of  the  human  system,  whence  spring  the  various 
phases  of  somnambulism  and  other  analogous  mani- 
festations, physical  and  mental,  observed  by  animal 
magnetizers. 

Time  after  time  throughout  the  psycho-medical  his- 

*  See  further  on,  under  title  "  Disturbances  popularly  termed  Hauntinys." 

t  The  curious  in  such  matters  may  consult  the  "Geschichte  der  Magie,'* 
by  Dr.  Joseph  Ennemoser,  Leipzig,  1844, — of  which,  if  he  be  not  familiar 
with  German,  he  will  find  an  English  translation,  by  William  Howitt, 
'^History  of  Magic,"  London,  1854. 

Also,  the  *' Cradle  of  the  Twin  Giants,  Science  and  History,"  by  the  Rer. 
Henry  Christmas,  M.A.,  F.R.S.,  F.S.A.,  London,  1849. 

Both  are  works  of  great  research. 


OP  EUROPE.  108 

tory  of  the  Middle  Ages  and  of  modern  Europe — some- 
times among  Catholics,  sometimes  among  Protestants 
— recur  these  singular  episodes  in  the  history  of  the 
human  mind,  usually  epidemical  in  their  character 
while  they  last,  each  episode,  however,  independent  of 
the  others  and  separated  from  them  widely  by  time 
ttnd  place;  all  narrated  by  writers  who  take  the  most 
opposite  views  of  their  nature  and  causes,  yet  all,  no 
matter  by  whom  narrated,  bearing  a  family  likeness, 
which  appears  the  more  striking  the  more  closely  they 
are  studied. 

Examples  are  numerous:  as  the  alleged  obsession 
(1632  to  1639)  of  the  Ursuline  Nuns  of  Loudun,  with 
its  sequel,  in  1642,  among  the  Sisters  of  St.  Elizabeth 
at  Louviers;  the  mental  aberrations  of  the  Prophets  or 
Shakers  (Trembleurs)  of  the  Cevennes,  (1686  to  1707,) 
caused  by  the  persecutions  which  followed  the  revoca- 
tion of  the  Edict  of  Nantes ;  and  the  pseudo-miracles 
of  the  Convulsionists  of  St.  Medard  (1731  to  1741)  at 
the  tomb  of  the  Abbe  Paris.* 

All  this  occurred,  it  will  be  observed,  before  the  very 
name  of  Animal  Magnetism  was  known,  or  any  natural 
explanation  of  these  strange  manifestations  was  sus- 
pected; at  a  time  when  their  investigation  was  con- 
sidered the  province  of  the  ecclesiastical  tribunals,  not 

*  For  details  touching  the  disturbances  at  Loudun,  consult  "La  Df- 
monomame  de  Loudun"  by  La  FlSche,  1634 ;  "  Cruels  Effeta  de  la  Ven- 
geance du  Cardinal  de  Richelieu  ;  ou,  Hittoire  det  Diables  de  Loudun,"  Ani- 
it^rdam,  1693;  *' Examen  et  Discussions  Critiques  de  VHistoire  des  Diablen 
de  Loudun"  by  M.  de  la  M^nardaye,  Paris,  1747;  "Hiatoire  AbrSgSe  de  la 
Possession  des  Ursulines  de  Loudun"  by  the  Pere  Tissot,  Paris,  1828.  For 
those  of  Louviers,  see  "  Riponse  <J  VExamen  de  la  Possession  des  Religieuset 
de  Louviers"  Rouen,  1643.  As  to  the  Prophets  of  the  Cevennes,  see 
"  Theatre  Sacri  des  Cevennes,"  by  M.  Misson,  London,  1707;  "An  Account 
^  the  French  Prophets  and  their  Pretended  Inspirations"  London,  1708; 
*'  Histoire  des  Troubles  des  Cevennes,"  by  M.  Court,  Alais,  1819.  The  work* 
on  the  St.  M6dard  disturbances  are  elsewhere  noticed. 


;104  CLASSES   OF   PHENOMENA. 

of  the  medical  profession  or  of  the  psychological  in- 
quirer. 

And  for  that  very  reason,  inasmuch  as  many  of  the 
phenomena  in  question,  and  running  through  almost 
all  the  above  examples,  resemble,  more  or  less  closely, 
others  alleged  to  have  been  observed  by  modern  mag- 
netizers,  the  remarkable  concurrence  of  testimony 
among  the  narrators  in  regard  to  these  becomes  the 
more  convincing  of  the  reality,  in  some  shape  or  other, 
of  the  facts  narrated. 

For,  as  soon  as  we  find,  in  a  succession  of  examples, 
a  class  of  phenomena,  no  matter  how  extraordinary  or 
inexplicable  they  may  seem,  the  chance  of  their  being 
genuine  is  very  greatly  increased.  A  phenomenon  may 
be  deemed  improbable  so  long  as  it  appears  to  be  the 
only  one  of  its  class.  But  so  soon  as  we  have  grouped 
around  it  others  similar  in  nature,  we  have  brought  to 
bear  one  of  the  strongest  arguments  to  sustain  the  pro- 
bability of  its  existence. 

But,  besides  the  inherent  probability  or  improbability 
of  any  alleged  phenomenon,  and  besides  the  general  con- 
siderations, universally  admitted,  touching  the  number 
and  concurrence  of  witnesses,  their  usual  character  for 
veracity,  their  freedom  from  interest  in  what  they 
affirm, — ^besides  all  this,  the  manner  of  each  individual 
deposition  or  narration  has,  very  properly,  much  to  do 
with  the  confidence  we  repose  in  the  narrator.  There 
is,  if  the  testimony  be  oral,  a  look  and  an  accent  of 
truth,  which  inspires  instinctive  confidence.  And 
though  in  a  written  statement  simulation  is  easier,  yet 
even  in  that  case  an  air  of  candor,  or  a  sense  of  the 
lack  of  it,  commonly  attaches  so  strongly  to  an  author's 
writing,  that  we  are  enabled,  if  we  have  some  experience 
of  the  world,  to  form  a  shrewd  judgment  in  regard  to 
his  honesty  of  purpose. 


MODESTY   ENLISTS   CREDENCE.  105 

Modesty  and  moderation  in  narrative  justly  enlist  our 
credence.  We  incline  to  believe  most  that  which  is  least- 
arrogantly  asserted.  Earnestness  of  conviction  in  the 
testifier  is,  indeed,  necessary  to  produce  a  corresponding 
confidence  in  his  audience;  but  no  two  things  are  more 
distinct  than  earnestness  and  dogmatism.  We  lose  trust 
in  a  man  who,  if  you  will  but  take  his  own  word  for  it, 
is  always  in  the  right, — who  makes  no  calculation  that 
is  not  verified,  attempts  no  experiment  that  does  not 
succeed.  A  partial  failure  often  inspires  us  with  more 
confidence  than  a  complete  success. 

Nor  does  it  materially  weaken  the  probability  of  an 
observation  in  itself  reliable,  that  some  other  experi' 
mentalists  in  search  of  similar  results  have  not  yet 
obtained  them.  One  successful  experiment,  suflSciently 
attested,  is  not  to  be  rebutted  by  twenty  unsuccessful 
ones.  It  cannot  disprove  what  I  have  seen  that  others 
have  not  seen  it.  The  conditions  of  success  may  be 
difficult  and  precarious,  especially  where  living  beingij 
are  the  subjects  of  experiment.  And  even  as  to  inani- 
mate substances,  there  is  not  a  naturalist  who  has 
reached  at  last  some  important  discovery  who  maj^  not 
have  failed  a  hundred  times  on  the  road  to  it.  If  even 
numerous  intelligent  observers  report  unobtained  results, 
their  negative  testimony,  unless  it  approach  universality, 
can  amount  to  no  more  than  an  adverse  presumption, 
and  may  only  prove  the  rarity  of  the  quested  pheno- 
menon.* 

♦  In  a  subsequent  portion  of  this  work  (on  "Dhturbancea  popularly 
termed  Hauntinga")  will  be  found  a  notice  of  Qlanvil's  celebrated  story 
usually  entitled  "The  Drummer  of  Tedworth."  It  attracted  so  much  at- 
tention at  the  time  that  the  king  sent  some  gentlemen  of  his  court  to 
examine  into  the  matter,  who  spent  a  night  in  the  house  reputed  to  be 
haunted,  but  heard  nothing ;  and  this  has  been  adduced  as  a  complete  refuta- 
tion of  the  narrative.  Glanvil  (in  the  third  edition  of  his  "  Sadditciamut 
Triumphatua,"  p.  337)  justly  remarks  thereon, — 
**  'Tis  true,  that  when  the  gentlemen  the  king  sent  were  there  the  houw 


106  ONE   SUCCESS   NOT  DISPROVED 

If  to  some  it  seem  that  this  remark  is  so  evident  as 
scaroely  to  be  needed,  eminent  examples  can  be  adduced 
to  show  that  it  touches  upon  an  error  to  which  men  are 
sufficiently  prone. 

On  the  28th  of  February,  1826,  a  commission  was  ap- 
pointed from  among  its  members  by  the  Eoj^al  Academy 
of  Medicine,  of  Paris,  to  examine  the  subject  of  Animal 
Magnetism.  After  an  investigation  running  through 
more  than  five  years,  to  wit,  on  the  2l8t  of  June,  1831, 
this  commission  reported,  through  their  president.  Dr. 
Husson,  at  great  length,  in  favor  of  the  reality  of  certain 
somnambulic  phenomena;  among  them,  insensibility, 
vision  with  the  eyes  closed,  prescience  during  sickness, 
and,  in  one  case,  perception  of  the  diseases  of  others: 
the  report  being  signed  unanimously.  Some  yeai*s 
later,  namely,  on  the  14th  of  February,  1837,  the  same 
Academy  appointed  a  second  commission  for  the  same 
purpose;  and  tney,  after  nearly  six  months,  (on  the  7th 
of  August,  1837,)  reported,  also  unanimously,  through 
their  chairman,  Dr.  Dubois,  expressing  their  conviction 
that  not  one  of  these  phenomena  had  any  foundation 
except  in  the  imagination  of  the  observers.  They 
reached  this  conclusion  by  examining  two  somnambules 
only. 

was  quiet,  and  nothing  seen  or  heard  that  night,  which  was  confidently  and 
with  triumph  urged  by  many  as  a  confutation  of  the  story.  But  'twas  bad 
logic  to  conclude  in  matters  of  fact  from  a  single  negative,  and  such  a  one 
against  numerous  affirmatives,  and  so  affirm  that  a  thing  was  never  don© 
because  not  at  such  a  particular  time,  and  that  nobody  ever  saw  what  this 
man  or  that  did  not.  By  the  same  way  of  reasoning,  I  may  infer  that  there 
were  never  any  robberies  done  on  Salisbury  Plain,  Hounslow  Heath,  or  the 
other  noted  places,  because  I  have  often  traveled  all  those  ways,  and  yet 
was  never  robbed;  and  the  Spaniard  inferred  well  that  said,  'There  was  no 
sun  in  England,  because  he  had  been  six  weeks  there  and  never  saw  it.'" 

Glanvil  properly  reminds  us  that  *'  the  disturbance  was  not  constant,  but 
intermitted  sometimes  several  days,  sometimes  weeks."  Under  these  cir- 
cumstances, it  is  quite  evident  that  its  non-appearance  during  a  single  night 
proves  nothing. 


BY  TWENTY   FAILURES.  107 

Dr.  Huflson,  commenting  before  the  Academy*  on  the 
conclusions  of  this  last  report,  truly  observes  that  "  th*« 
negative  experiences  thus  obtained  can  never  destroy 
the  positive  facts  observed  by  the  previous  commission ; 
since,  though  diametrically  opposed  to  each  other,  both 
may  be  equally  true."f 

It  is  a  fact  curious,  and  worth  noticing  in  this  con- 
nection, that  the  same  dogmatic  skepticism  which  often 
acts  as  a  clog  to  advancement  in  knowledge  may  bo 
betrayed,  in  certain  contingencies,  into  an  error  the  very 
opposite. 

For  there  are  some  men  who  ran  from  the  excess 
of  unbelief  to  the  extreme  of  credulity.  Once  convinced 
of  their  error  in  obstinately  denying  one  startling  fact, 
they  incontinently  admit,  not  that  only,  but  twenty 
other  allegations,  unchallenged,  in  its  company.  They 
defend  to  the  last  extremity  the  outer  line  of  fortifi- 
cation ;  but,  that  once  forced,  they  surrender,  without 
further  effort,  the  entire  citadel.  '<  Such,"  says  Buffon, 
"is  the  common  tendency  of  the  human  mind,  that 
when  it  has  once  been  impressed  by  a  marvelous  object 
it  takes  pleasure  in  ascribing  to  it  properties  that  are 
chimerical,  and  often  absurd.''  Against  this  temptation 
we  should  be  constantly  on  our  guard. 

There  remains  to  be  touched  upon,  in  connection  with 
the  observation  of  phenomena  in  themselves  improbable, 
a  consideration  of  some  importance.  To  what  extent, 
and  under  what  circumstances,  is  it  reasonable  to  dis- 
trust the  evidence  of  our  senses  ? 

There  are  a  hundred  examples  of  the  manner  in  which 

♦  During  their  session  of  August  22,  1837.  M.  Husson's  discourse  is 
reported  verbatim  in  Ricard's  "TraitS  du  Magnetitme  animal,"  pr6ei»  his- 
ton'que,  pp.  144  to  164. 

f  I  forget  who  relates  the  anecdote  of  a  clown  who  proposed  to  rebut  tbt 
testimony  of  a  trustworthy  gentleman,  who  had  swQrn  to  the  use  of  oertfip 
language,  by  producing  ten  pien  to  swear  that  U^ey  b^  not  heard  it. 


t08  HALLUCINATION. 

one  or  other  of  our  senses  may,  for  the  time,  testify 
only  to  deceive  us.*  The  most  familiar,  perhaps,  are 
what  are  usually  termed  conjuring  tricks.  Those  who, 
like  myself,  have  sat  through  an  evening  with  Kobert- 
Houdin,  preserve,  probably,  a  vivid  recollection  how 
that  wonderful  artist  enacted  what  seemed  sheer  impos- 
sibilities, before  the  very  eyes  of  his  mystified  audience. 
But  this  was  on  his  own  theater,  with  months  or  years 
to  prepare  its  hidden  machinery  and  manufacture  its 
magical  apparatus;  with  the  practice  of  a  lifetime,  too, 
to  perfect  his  sleight  of  hand.  There  is  little  analogy 
between  such  professional  performances  and  phenomena 
presenting  themselves  spontaneously,  or  at  least  with- 
out calculated  preparation,  in  the  privacy  of  a  dwelling- 
house,  or  in  the  open  air,  often  to  persons  who  neither 
expect  nor  desire  them. 

But  there  suggests  itself,  further,  the  contingency  of 
hallucination.  This  subject  will  be  treated  of  in  a  sub- 
sequent chapter. f  Sufiice  it  here  to  say  that,  according 
to  the  doctrine  contained  in  the  most  accredited  works 
on  the  subject,  if  two  or  more  persons,  using  their  senses 
independently,  perceive,  at  the  same  time  and  place,  the 
same  appearance,  it  is  not  hallucination ;  that  is  to  say, 
there  is  some  actual  foundation  for  it.    Both  may,  indeed. 


*  Each  sense  may,  in  turn,  mislead  us.  We  are  constantly  impressed 
with  the  conviction  that  the  moon  just  after  it  rises  appears  of  a  greater 
magnitude  than  when  seen  on  the  meridian.  Yet  if,  by  means  of  a  frame 
with  two  threads  of  fine  silk  properly  adjusted,  we  measure  the  moon's 
apparent  magnitude  on  the  horizon  and  again  on  the  meridian,  we  shall 
find  them  the  same.  So  of  the  sense  of  touch.  If,  while  the  eyes  are 
closed,  two  fingers  of  the  same  hand,  being  crossed,  be  placed  on  a  table, 
and  a  single  marble,  or  pea,  be  rolled  between  them,  the  impression  will  be 
that  two  marbles,  or  two  peas,  are  touched. 

A  popular  review  of  the  fallacies  of  the  senses  will  be  found  in  Lardner's 
«* Museum  of  Science  and  Art"  vol.  i.  pp.  81  to  96. 

t  See  Chapter  1  of  Book  IV.,  on  "Appearances  commonly  called  A'ppa- 
ritiona." 


SECOND-SIGHT.  109 

mistake  one  thing  for  another;  T)ut  there  is  something  to 
mistake. 

On  the  other  hand,  if  but  one  person  perceive  some 
prodigy,  it  may  be  a  pure  hallucination  only,  especially 
if  the  person  be  under  the  influence  of  great  agitation 
or  of  a  nervous  system  unduly  excited.  If  such  a  person 
perceive  what  others  around  him  do  not,  it  may  be  taken 
us  prima  facie  evidence  that  he  is  the  subject  of  halluci- 
nation. Yet  we  can  imagine  circumstances  that  would 
rebut  such  a  presumption.  If,  for  example,  it  should  be 
satisfactorily  proved,  in  any  given  case,  that  a  certain 
appearance,  perceived  by  one  witness  only  out  of  many 
present,  conveyed  to  that  witness,  with  unmistakable 
accuracy,  correct  information  touching  the  distant  or 
the  future,  which  it  was  impossible  by  ordinary  means 
to  acquire,  we  should  needs  conclude  that  there  was 
something  other  than  hallucination  in  the  case.  The 
alleged  second-sight  in  Scotland,  and  especially  in  the 
island  of  Skye,*  if  perfectly  authenticated  in  any  one 

*  The  curious  will  find  many  details  of  the  pretensions  touching  the 
Scottish  second-sight,  and  particularly  in  the  Hebrides,  recorded  in  "  Be- 
tcription  of  the  Western  Islands  of  Scotland,"  by  M.  Martin,  London,  1706. 
The  author  regards  this  phenomenon  as  sufficiently  proved,  especially 
among  the  inhabitants  of  the  island  of  Skye.  He  alleges  that  the  gift  oi 
decond-sight  is  usually  hereditary  j  that  animals  are  wont  to  distinguish, 
at  the  same  time  as  the  seer,  the  apparition  which  he  alone  of  all  the  human 
beings  present  perceives,  and  to  be  violently  aflfected  by  it.  He  adds  that 
the  gift  seems  endemical,  since  natives  of  Skye  noted  as  seers,  if  they  pass 
into  a  distant  country,  lose  the  power,  but  recover  it  as  soon  as  they  return 
to  their  native  land. 

The  subject  is  mentioned,  also,  in  Dr.  Johnson's  '*  Journey  to  the  Western 
Islands  of  Scotland,"  p.  247,  and  in  Boswell's  "  Journal  of  a  Tour  to  the 
Behrides  with  Samuel  Johnson,"  1785,  p.  490. 

Scheffer,  too,  in  his  History  of  Lapland,  adduces  various  examples  which 
he  considers  as  indicating  the  existence  of  second-sight  among  the  people 
of  that  country.  But  it  appears  to  diflfer  in  its  form  from  the  second-sight 
of  Scotland,  and  more  nearly  to  approach  somnambulism ;  for  the  seer  is, 
according  to  ScheflFer,  plunged  into  a  deep  sleep,  or  lethargy,  during  which 
his  prophecies  are  uttered.  See  his  work  translated  from  the  original  Latin 
10 


110  DIAGORAS   AT    SAMOTHRACE. 

example  where  chance  prediction  or  conjecture  could 
not  be  imagined,  would  be  a  case  in  point.  Beyond  all 
question,  however,  such  cases  ought  to  be  scrupulously- 
scanned.  That  one  unlikely  prediction,  for  instance, 
should  be  fulfilled,  while  a  hundred  fail,  may  be  a  rare 
coincidence,  only,  fairly  to  be  ascribed  to  what  we  call 
chance.  Cicero  relates  that  Diagoras,  when  at  Samo- 
thrace,  being  shown  in  a  temple,  as  evidence  of  the 
power  of  the  god  there  adored,  the  numerous  votive 
offerings  of  those  who,  having  invoked  hU,  aid,  were 
saved  from  shipwreck,  asked  how  many  persons,  not- 
withstanding such  invocation,  had  perished.*  Predic- 
tions, however,  may  be  of  such  a  nature,  and  so  circum- 
stantial in  their  details,  that  the  probabilities  against 
their  accidental  fulfillment  suffice  to  preclude  altogether 
that  supposition. 

In  a  general  way,  it  may  be  said  that  where  a  pheno- 
menon observed  by  several  persons,  however  extraordi- 
nary and  unexampled  it  may  be,  is  of  a  plain  and  evi- 
dent character,  palpable  to  the  senses,  especially  to  the 
sight,  we  are  not  justified  in  distrusting  the  evidence  of 
sense  in  regard  to  it.f 

Suppose,  for  example,^  that,  sitting  in  one's  own  well- 
lighted  apartment,  where  no  concealed  machinery  or 
other  trickery  is  possible,  in  company  with  three  or  four 


into  French  by  the  Geographer  of  the  King,  and  entitled  "  Histoire  de  La- 
ponie,"  Paris,  1778,  vol.  iv.  p.  107  et  eeq. 

*  Cicero  "De  natura  deorum,"  lib.  iii. 

f  It  is  the  remark  of  a  distinguished  theologian,  "  In  some  circumstances 
our  senses  may  deceive  us ;  but  no  faculty  deceives  us  so  little  or  so  seldom; 
and  when  our  senses  do  deceive  us,  even  that  error  is  not  to  be  corrected 
without  the  help  of  our  senses." — Tillotson's  Works,  Sermon  XXVI. 

\  The  case  supposed  is  not  an  imaginary  one.  It  occurred  in  my  apart- 
ments at  Naples,  on  the  11th  of  March,  1856,  and,  with  slight  variations,  on 
two  subsequent  occasions.  I  had  tte  table  and  the  lamp  which  were  used 
on  these  occasions  weighed.  The  weight  of  the  former  was  seventy-six 
pounds  and  of  the  latter  fourteen, — together,  ninety  pounds. 


A   TABLE   RISES.  Ill 

friends,  all  curious  observers  like  oneself,  around  a  large 
center-table,  weighing  eighty  or  a  hundred  pounds,  the 
hands  of  all  present  resting  upon  it,  one  should  see  and 
feel  this  table,  the  top  maintaining  its  horizontal,  rise 
suddenly  and  unexpectedly  to  the  height  of  eight  or  ten 
inches  from  the  floor,  remain  suspended  in  the  air  while 
one  might  count  six  or  seven,  then  gently  settle  down 
again ;  and  suppose  that  all  the  spectators  concurred  in 
their  testimony  as  to  this  occurrence,  with  only  slight 
variations  of  opinion  as  to  the  exact  number  of  inches 
to  which  the  table  rose  and  the  precise  number  of 
seconds  during  which  it  remained  suspended :  ought  the 
witnesses  of  such  a  seeming  temporarj^  suspension  of  the 
law  of  gravitation  to  believe  that  their  senses  are  play- 
ing them  false  ? 

Mr.  Faraday  says  that,  unless  they  do,  they  are  not 
only  "  ignorant  as  respects  education  of  the  judgment," 
but  are  also  "  ignorant  of  their  ignorance."*  An  edu- 
cated judgment,  he  alleges, knows  that  "it  is  impossible 
to  create  force."  But  "  if  we  could,  by  the  fingers,  draw 
a  heavy  piece  of  wood  upward  without  effort,  and  then, 
letting  it  sink,  could  produce,  by  its  gravity,  an  effort 
equal  to  its  weight,  that  would  be  a  creation  of  power, 


*  The  assertion  occurs  in  Mr.  Faraday's  lecture  at  the  Royal  Institution, 
already  referred  to,  delivered  on  the  6th  of  May,  1854.  It  may  be  supposed 
to  embody  the  author's  deliberate  opinion,  since,  after  five  years,  it  is  re- 
published by  him  in  his  "  Experimental  Reaearchea  in  Ohemiatry  and  Phy- 
ttca"  London,  1859.  The  passage  quoted,  with  its  essential  context,  is  as 
follows : — 

"  You  hear,  at  the  present  day,  that  some  persons  can  place  their  fingers 
on  a  table,  and  then,  elevating  their  hands,  the  table  will  rise  and  follow 
Ihcm ;  that  the  piece  of  furniture,  though  heavy,  will  ascend,  and  that  their 
oands  bear  no  weight,  or  are  not  drawn  down  to  the  wood."  .  .  .  **  The 
assertion  finds  acceptance  in  every  rank  of  society,  and  among  classes  that 
aid  esteemed  to  be  educated.  Now,  what  can  this  imply  but  that  society, 
generally  speaking,  is  not  only  ignorant  as  respects  the  education  of  th« 
)Uilr:raent,  but  is  also  ignorant  of  its  ignorance  ?" — p.  470. 


112  Faraday's  idea 

and  cannot  be."*  His  conclusion  is,  that  tables  never 
rise.    The  thing  is  impossible. 

That  is  a  very  convenient  short-cut  out  of  a  difficulty. 
The  small  objection  is,  that  the  facts  are  opposed  to  it. 
It  is  all  very  well  for  Mr.  Faraday  to  bid  the  witnesses 
carry  with  them  an  educated  judgment.  The  recom- 
mendation does  not  reach  the  case.  Unless  this  edu- 
cated judgment  could  persuade  them  that  they  did  not 
see  what  they  actually  saw  and  did  not  feel  what  they 
actually  felt,  it  would  certainly  never  convince  them,  as 
Mr.  Faraday  proposes  it  should,  that  what  happened 
before  their  eyes  cannot  be. 

They  might  very  properly  doubt  whether  what  they 
saw  and  felt  was  a  suspension  of  a  law  universal  as  that 
of  gravitation.  They  would  do  quite  wrong  in  assert- 
ing, as  Mr.  Faraday  takes  it  for  granted  they  must,  that 
"  by  the  fingers  they  draw  a  heavy  piece  of  wood  up- 
ward without  effort  :"f  that  might  be  mistaking  the  post 

*  Work  cited,  p.  479.     The  italics  are  Faraday's. 

That  gentleman  is  among  the  number  of  those  who  believe  that  "before 
we  proceed  to  consider  any  question  involving  physical  principles',  we  should 
set  out  with  clear  ideas  of  the  naturally  possible  and  impossible.'* — p.  478. 
But  it  avails  nothing  to  set  out  with  what  we  cherish  as  clear  ideas,  if  on 
the  way  we  encounter  phenomena  which  disprove  them.  Mr.  Faraday  is  one 
of  those  imprudent  persons  spoken  of  by  Arago.  (See  motto  to  chap.  ii. 
Book  I.) 

f  The  imposition  of  hands  is  not  a  necessary  condition.  In  the  dining- 
room  of  a  French  nobleman,  the  Count  d'Ourches,  residing  near  Paris,  I 
saw,  on  the  1st  day  of  October,  1858,  in  broad  daylight,  at  the  close  of  a 
dijeuner  d  la  fourchette,  a  dinner-table  seating  seven  persons,  with  fruit  and 
wine  on  it,  rise  and  settle  down,  as  already  described,  while  all  the  guests 
were  standing  around  it,  and  not  one  of  them  touching  it  at  all.  All  present 
saw  the  same  thing.  Mr.  Kyd,  son  of  the  late  General  Kyd,  of  the  British 
army,  and  his  lady,  told  me  (in  Paris,  in  April,  1859)  that,  in  December  of 
ihe  year  1857,  during  an  evening  visit  to  a  friend,  who  resided  at  No.  28 
Rue  de  la  Ferme  des  Mathurins,  at  Paris,  Mrs.  Kyd,  seated  in  an  arm- 
chair, suddenly  felt  it  move,  as  if  some  one  had  laid  hold  of  it  from  beneath. 
Then  slowly  and  gradually  it  rose  into  the  air,  and  remained  there  iius- 
pended  for  the  space  of  about  thirty  seconds,  the  lady's  feet  being  four  or 


OF   THE   IMPOSSIBLE.  113 

hoc  for  the  propter  hoc.  All  they  would  be  justified  in 
saying  is,  that  they  placed  their  hands  on  the  table, 
and  the  table  rose. 

If  still  Mr.  Faraday  should  reply  that  it  did  not  rise, 
because  it  could  not,  he  would  afford  an  eminent  exam- 
ple of  a  truth  as  old  as  the  days  of  Job,  that  "  great  men 
are  not  always  wise."  That  which  does  happen  can 
happen;  and  the  endeavor  by  argument  to  persuade 
men  to  the  contrary  is  labor  lost. 

I  make  no  assertion  that  tables  are  raised  by  spiritual 
agency.  But  suppose  Mr.  Faraday,  by  disproving  every 
other  hypothesis,  should  drive  one  to  this  :♦  it  would  be 


Ive  feet  from  the  ground;  then  it  settled  down  gently  and  gradually,  so  that 
there  was  no  shock  when  it  reached  the  carpet.  No  one  was  touching  tha 
chair  when  it  rose,  nor  did  any  one  approach  it  while  in  the  air,  except  Mr. 
Kyd,  who,  fearing  an  accident,  advanced  and  touched  Mrs.  Kyd.  The  room 
was  at  the  time  brightly  lighted,  as  a  French  salon  usually  is ;  and  of  the 
eight  or  nine  persons  present  all  saw  the  same  thing,  in  the  same  way.  I 
took  notes  of  the  above,  as  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Eyd  narrated  to  me  the  occur- 
rence; and  they  kindly  permitted,  as  a  voucher  for  its  truth,  the  use  of 
their  names. 

Here  is  no  drawing  up  of  a  heavy  object,  without  effort,  with  the  fingers^ 
the  concomitant  which  Mr.  Faraday  speaks  of  as  indispensable.  And  the 
phenomenon  occurred  in  a  private  drawing-room,  among  persons  of  high 
social  position,  educated  and  intelligent  Thousands,  in  the  most  enlight- 
ened countries  of  the  world,  can  testify  to  the  like.  Are  they  all  to  be 
spoken  of  as  "  ignorant  of  their  ignorance"  ? 

*  He  scorns  the  idea.  In  his  letter  on  Table-Turning,  published  in  the 
London  "  Times"  of  June  30,  1853,  he  says,  "The  eflFect  produced  by  table- 
turners  has  been  referred  to  electricity,  to  magnetism,  to  attraction,  to  some 
unknown  or  hitherto  unrecognized  physical  power  able  to  aflfect  inanimate 
bodies,  to  the  revolution  of  the  earth,  and  even  to  diabolical  or  supernatural 
agency.  The  natural  philosopher  can  investigate  all  these  supposed  causes 
out  the  last:  that  must,  to  him,  be  too  much  connected  with  credulity  or 
•uperstition  to  require  any  attention  on  his  part." —  Work  cited,  p.  382. 

This  is  a  summary  and  convenient  disclaimer, — more  convenient  than 
satisfactory.  Mr.  Faraday  thinks  of  ultramundane  agency  as  Hume  did  of 
miracles,  that  "supported  by  human  testimony  it  is  more  properly  a  subject 
of  derision  than  of  argument."  The  time  is  coming  when,  in  this  woriJ 
or  another,  he  may  discover  hi.<i  mistake.  • 

H  10* 


114  CONSEQUENCES   OF   DOUBTING 

much  more  philosophical  to  adopt  it  than  to  reject  the 
clear  and  palpable  evidence  of  sense. 

For,  if  we  assume  any  other  principle,  all  received 
rules  of  evidence  must  be  set  at  naught  ;*  nay,  our  very 
lives  would  be  made  up  of  uncertainty  and  conjecture. 
We  might  begin  to  doubt  the  most  common  events  of 
daily  occurrence,']'  and  perhaps,  at  last,  to  dream,  with 
Berkeley,  that  the  external  world  exists  only  in  our 
sensations.  Indeed,  if  the  senses  of  an  entire  commu- 
nity of  men  were  to  concur  in  imposing  on  them  unreal 
eights  and  sounds,  appearing  to  all  the  same,  who  would 
there  be  to  declare  it  a  delusion,  and  what  means  would 
remain  to  prove  it  such? 

Nor  is  it  irrational  to  trust  the  evidence  of  our  senses 
in  cases  so  marvelous  that  we  may  reject  hearsay  testi- 
mony of  an  ordinary  character  when  brought  to  prove 

*  The  reader  will  find  in  Reid's  excellent  work  on  the  Mind  {Essay  2, 
"Perception")  some  remarks  much  in  point.  He  says,  "No  judge  will 
ever  suppose  that  witnesses  may  be  imposed  upon  by  trusting  to  their  eyes 
and  ears ;  and  if  skeptical  counsel  should  plead  against  the  testimony  of 
witnesses  that  they  had  no  other  evidence  for  what  they  declared  but  tha 
testimony  of  their  eyes  and  ears,  and  that  we  ought  not  to  put  so  much  faith 
in  our  senses  as  to  deprive  men  of  life  and  fortune  upon  their  testimony, 
surely  no  upright  judge  would  admit  a  plea  of  this  kind.  I  believe  no 
counsel,  however  skeptical,  ever  dared  to  offer  such  an  argument ;  and  if  it 
were  offered  it  would  be  rejected  with  disdain." 

f  The  legal  records  of  the  Middle  Ages  furnish  examples,  scarcely  credi- 
ble, of  such  skepticism.  During  the  thousand  trials  for  witchcraft  which 
occurred  in  France  throughout  the  sixteenth  century,  the  women  suspected 
were  usually  accused  of  having  joined  the  witches'  dance  at  midnight  under 
a  blasted  oak.  "  The  husbands  of  several  of  these  women  (two  of  them 
>vere  young  and  beautiful)  swore  positively  that,  at  the  time  stated,  their 
wives  were  comfortably  asleep  in  their  arms ;  but  it  was  all  in  vain.  Their 
word  was  taken ;  but  the  archbishop  told  them  they  were  deceived  by  the 
devil  and  their  own  senses.  It  is  true  they  might  have  had  the  semblance 
of  their  wives  in  their  beds,  but  the  originals  were  far  away  at  the  devil's 
dance  under  the  oak." — Mackay'a  Popular  Deluaiona ;  chipter  on  tk«  Witt.\- 
Mama. 


THE  EVIDENCE  OF  SENSE.  115 

them.  "  I  must  see  that  to  believe  it,"  is  often  the  ex- 
pression of  no  unreasonable  scruple.* 

La  Place  puts  the  case,  that  we  should  not  trust  the 
testimony  of  a  person  who  would  allege  that,  having 
thrown  a  hundred  dice  into  the  air,  they  all  fell  with  the 
same  side  up;  while  if  we  saw  the  thing  happen,  and 
carefully  inspected  the  dice,  one  after  the  other,  we  should 
cease  to  doubt  the  fact.  He  says,  "  After  such  an  exa- 
mination we  should  no  longer  hesitate  to  admit  it,  not- 
withstanding its  extreme  improbability;  and  no  one 
would  be  tempted,  by  way  of  explaining  it,  to  resort  to 
the  hypothesis  of  an  illusion  caused  by  an  infraction  of 
the  laws  of  vision.  Hence  we  may  conclude  that  the 
probability  of  the  constancy  of  natural  laws  is,  for  us, 
greater  than  the  probability  that  the  event  referred  to 
should  not  occur." 

So  it  may  be,  fairly  enough,  as  to  the  phenomena 
witnessed  by  myself  and  others,  to  which  allusion 
has  just  been  made;  the  moving,  namely,  without  ap- 
parent physical  agency,  of  tables  and  other  material 
substances.  These  are  of  a  character  so  extraordinary, 
that  the  evidence  of  testimony,  credible  though  it  be 
regarded,  may  bring  home  to  the  reader  no  conviction 
of  their  reality.  If  that  should  be  »o,  he  will  but  find 
himself  in  the  same  position  in  which  I  myself  was  before 
I  witnessed  them.  Like  him  whom  La  Place  supposes  to 
be  listening  to  the  story  of  the  hundred  dice,  I  doubted 
hearsay  evidence,  even  from  persons  whose  testimony 
in  any  ordinary  case  I  should  have  taken  without  hesi- 
cation.  But  I  doubted  only :  I  did  not  deny.  I  resolved, 
on  the  first  opportunity,  to  examine  for  myself;  and  the 

*  "  I  have  finally  settled  down  to  the  opinion  that,  as  to  phenomena  of 
BO  extraordinary  a  character,  one  may,  by  dint  of  discussion,  reach  the  con- 
viction that  there  are  suflBcient  reasons  for  believing  them,  but  that  one 
really  dots  believe  them  only  after  having  seen  them." — Beb  trand  :  "  Traiti 
du  SnmnambtiHsme,"  p.  165. 


116  CERTAINTY   NOT   REACHED. 

evidence  of  my  senses  wrought  a  conviction  which  testi 
mony  had  failed  to  produce.  If  the  reader,  doubting 
like  me,  but  seek  the  same  mode  of  resolving  his  doubts, 
I  may  have  rendered  him  a  service.  Let  him  demand, 
like  Thomas,  to  see  and  to  feel ;  let  him  inspect  the  dice 
one  after  the  other;  let  him  avoid,  as  in  the  preceding 
pages  I  have  sought  to  induce  him,  the  extremes  of 
credulity  and  unbelief;  but  let  him  not  imagine  that 
the  senses  his  Creator  has  given  him  are  lying  witnesses, 
merely  because  they  testify  against  his  preconceptions. 

And  thus,  it  may  be,  shall  he  learn  a  wholesome 
lesson ;  a  lesson  of  warning  against  that  wisdom  in  his 
own  conceit  which,  we  are  told,  is  more  hopeless  than 
folly  itself. 

Thus,  too,  perhaps  he  may  be  induced,  as  J.  was, 
patiently  to  listen  to  the  testimony  of  others,  as  con- 
tained in  many  of  the  following  pages,  touching  what  1 
once  considered,  and  what  he  may  still  consider,  mere  fan- 
ciful superstitions.  And  thus  he  may  be  led,  as  I  have 
been,  as  to  these  strange  phenomena,  carefully  to  weigh 
the  contending  probabilities.  I  assume  not  to  have 
reached  absolute  certainty.  How  seldom,  in  any  in- 
quiry, is  it  attained!  Where  the  nature  of  the  case 
admits  but  more  or  less  probable  deductions,  it  suffices 
to  show  a  fair  balance  of  evidence  in  favor  of  the  conclu- 
sions we  infer.  Nor  is  it  unreasonable  to  act  on  such 
an  inference  though  it  fall  short  of  infallible  proof.  Of 
all  the  varied  knowledge  which  regulates  our  daily 
actions,  how  overwhelming  a  portion,  as  La  Place  re- 
minds us,  appertains,  strictly  speaking,  to  the  various 
shades  of  the  possible  only  ! 

And  of  that  knowledge  how  much  has  been  gradually 
drawn  forth  from  the  obscurity  where  for  ages  it  lay, 
vailed  by  the  mists  of  incredulity,  under  the  ban  of  the 
Improbable ! 


BOOK  II. 

TOUCHING  CERTAIN  PHASES  OF  SLEEP. 
CHAPTEK  1. 

SLEEP     IN     GENERAL. 

**  Half  oar  days  we  paas  in  the  shadow  of  the  earth,  and  the  brother  w 
death  exacteth  a  third  part  of  our  lives." — Sir  Thomas  Browne. 

If  we  sit  down  to  make  clear  to  ourselves  what  is,  and 
what  is  not,  marvelous, — to  define,  with  precision,  the 
wonderful, — wo  may  find  the  task  much  more  difficult 
than  we  apprehend.  The  extraordinary  usually  sur- 
prises us  the  most;  the  ordinary  may  be  not  only  far 
more  worthy  of  our  attention,  but  far  more  inexplicable 
also. 

We  are  accustomed  to  call  things  natural  if  they  come 
constantly  under  our  observation,  and  to  imagine  thai 
that  single  word  embodies  a  sufficient  explanation  of 
them.  Yet  there  are  daily  wonders,  familiar  household 
marvels,  which,  if  they  were  not  familiar,  if  they  were 
not  of  daily  recurrence,  would  not  only  excite  oui 
utmost  astonishment,  but  would  also,  beyond  question, 
provoke  our  incredulity. 

Every  night,  unless  disease  or  strong  excitement  inter- 
pose, we  become  ourselves  the  subjects  of  a  phenomenon 
which,  if  it  occurred  but  once  in  a  century,  we  should 
regard — if  we  believed  it  at  all — as  the  mystery  of  myste- 
ries. Every  night,  if  blessed  with  health  and  tran- 
quillity, we  pass,  in  an  unconscious  moment,  the 
threshold  of  material  existence;  entering  another  world, 

117 


118  AN   INSCRUTABLE    WORLD. 

where  we  see,  but  not  with  our  eyes;  where  we  hear, 
when  our  ears  convey  no  perception;  in  which  we  speak, 
in  which  we  are  spoken  to,  though  no  sound  pass  our 
lips  or  reach  our  organs  of  hearing. 

In  that  world  we  are  excited  to  joy,  to  grief;  we  are 
moved  to  pity,  we  are  stirred  to  anger;  yet  these  emo- 
tions are  aroused  by  no  objective  realities.  There  our 
judgment  is  usually  obscured,  and  our  reasoning  faculties 
are  commonly  at  fault;  yet  the  soul,  as  if  in  anticipa- 
tion of  the  powers  which  the  last  sleep  may  confer  upon 
it,  seems  emancipated  from  earthly  trammels.  Time 
has  lost  its  landmarks.  Oceans  interpose  no  barrier. 
The  Past  gives  back  its  buried  phantoms.  The  grave 
restores  its  dead. 

We  have  glimpses  into  that  world.  A  portion  of  it  ia 
revealed  to  us  dimly  in  the  recollections  of  some  sleep- 
ing thoughts.  But  a  portion  is  inscrutable, — almost  as 
inscrutable  as  that  other  world  beyond  the  tomb. 

What  means  have  we  of  knowing  that  which  passes 
through  our  minds  in  sleep  ?  Except  through  our  me- 
mory, (unless,  indeed,  we  are  sleep-talkers,  and  our 
sleep-talking  is  overheard,)  none  whatever.  Sleeping 
thoughts  not  remembered  are,  for  us  in  our  waking 
state,  as  if  they  had  never  existed.  But  it  is  certain 
that  many  such  thoughts  are  wholly  forgotten  before 
we  awake.  Of  this  we  have  positive  proof  in  the  case 
of  persons  talking  in  sleep,  and  thus  indicating  the  sub- 
ject of  their  dreams.  It  constantly  happens  that  such 
persons,  interrogated  as  to  their  dreams  the  next  morn- 
ing, deny  having  had  any;  and  even  if  the  subject  of 
their  sleep-talking  be  suggested  to  them,  it  awakens  no 
train  of  memory.* 

*  Abercrombie's  "Intellectual  Powers,"  15th  ed.,  p.  112. 

But  all  physiologists  are  agreed  a8  to  this  phenomenon.  In  some  cases, 
luwever,  two  mental  states  seem  to  be  indicated;  the  memory  of  the  dreat. 
being  not  so  wholly  lost  that  it  cannot  bo  revived,  at  a  future  time,  in  sleep. 


DREAMLESS   SLEEP.  119 

The  question  whether  wo  ever  sleep  without  dream- 
ing— as  old  as  the  days  of  Aristotle — is  equally  curious 
and  difficult  of  solution.  In  support  of  the  theory  that 
no  moment  of  sleep  is  void  of  dreaming  thoughts  or 
sensations,  we  have  such  names  as  Hippocrates,  Leib- 
nitz, Descartes,  Cabanis.  The  most  formidable  authority 
on  the  opposite  side  is  Locke.  But  that  eminent  man 
evidently  had  not  before  him  all  the  phenomena  neces- 
sary to  afford  a  proper  understanding  of  this  subject. 
His  definition  of  dreaming  is  faulty,*  and  the  argument 
with  which  he  supports  his  views,  namely,  that  *<man 
cannot  think  at  any  time,  waking  or  sleeping,  without 
being  sensible  of  it,"f  evidently  does  not  reach  the  case. 

Of  more  modern  writers,  Macnish  and  Carpenter  con- 
clude that  perfectly  sound  sleep  is  dreamless;  while 
Holland,  Macario,  and  (as  far  as  they  express  themselves) 
Abercrombie  and  Brodie,  assume  the  opposite  ground. 
Plausible  reasons  may  be  adduced  for  either  opinion. 

Whatever  be  the  conditions  of  that  mysterious 
mechanism  which  connects  the  immaterial  principle  in 
man  with  the  brain,  this  we  know :  that  throughout 
waking  life  cerebral  action  of  some  kind  is  the  neces- 
sary antecedent,  or  concomitant,  of  thought.  This 
action,  in  some  modified  form,  appears  to  continue  at 
least  during  those  periods  of  sleep  when  there  occur 
dreams  of  such  a  character  that  thej^  are  remembered, 
or  that  their  presence  is  testified  by  outward  signs  of 
emotion  in  the  sleeper. 

Dr.   Perquin,  a  French   physician,  has  reported  the 

*  His  definition  is,  "  Dreaming  is  the  having  of  ideas,  whilst  the  outward 
senses  are  stopped,  not  suggested  by  any  external  object  or  known  occasion, 
nor  under  the  rule  and  conduct  of  the  understanding." 

But,  while  dreaming,  the  outward  senses  are,  in  general,  only  partially 
stopped  J  ideas  are  often  suggested  by  external  objects  and  by  physical  sen- 
sations; and  sometimes  the  understanding,  instead  of  being  dethroned,  sc« 
quires  a  power  and  vivacity  beyond  what  it  possesses  in  the  waking  state. 

t  **An  Eaaay  concerning  Human  Underttanding,"  Book  II.  chap.  L  p.  10. 


120  perquin's  observation. 

case  of  a  female,  twenty-six  years  of  age,  who  had  lost 
by  disease  a  large  portion  of  her  skull-bone  and  dura 
mater,  so  that  a  corresponding  portion  of  the  brain  was 
bare  and  open  to  inspection.  He  says,  "When  she 
was  in  a  dreamless  sleep  her  brain  was  motionless,  and 
lay  within  the  cranium.  When  her  sleep  was  imperfect, 
and  she  was  agitated  by  dreams,  her  brain  moved,  and 
protruded  without  the  cranium,  forming  cerebral  hernia. 
In  vivid  dreams,  reported  as  such  by  herself,  the  pro- 
trusion was  considerable;  and  when  she  was  perfectly 
awake — especially  if  engaged  in  lively  conversation — it 
was  still  greater.  Nor  did  the  protrusion  occur  in  jerks 
alternating  with  recessions,  as  if  caused  by  the  impulse 
of  the  arterial  blood.  It  remained  steady  while  conver- 
sation lasted."* 

Here  we  have  three  separate  mental  states,  with  the 
corresponding  cerebral  action  intimated,  so  far  as  ex- 
ternal indications  are  a  clew  to  it :  the  waking  state,  in 
which  the  brain  gives  sign  of  full  activity;  a  state  known 
to  be  dreaming,  during  which  there  is  still  cerebral 
action,  but  in  a  diminished  degree;  and  a  third  state, 
exhibiting  no  outward  proof  of  dreaming,  nor  leaving 
behind  any  remembrance  of  dreams,  and  during  which 
cerebral  action  is  no  longer  perceptible  to  the  spec- 
tator. 

But  we  stretch  inference  too  far  if  we  assert,  as  some 
physiologists  do,f  that  in  this  third  state  there  is  no 
cerebral  action  and  there  are  no  dreams. 

All  that  we  are  justified  in  concluding  is,  that,  during 
this  period  of  apparent  repose,  cerebral  action,  if  such 

*  This  case  was  observed  in  one  of  the  hospitals  of  Montpellier,  in  the 
year  1821.  It  is  by  no  means  an  isolated  one.  Macnish  quotes  it  in  his 
"  Philosophy  of  Sleep." 

f  Carpenter  {"Principles  of  Human  Physiology, "  p.  634)  is  of  opinion 
that  during  profound  sleep  the  cerebrum  and  sensory  ganglia  are  "  in  a 
state  of  complete  functional  inactivity." 


DOES   THE    SOUL   SLEEP?  121 

continue,  is  much  diminished,*  and  dreams,  if  dreams 
there  be,  are  disconnected,  by  memory  or  otherwise, 
from  our  waking  life. 

If  we  push  our  researches  further,  and  inquire  what 
is  the  state  of  the  soul,  and  what  the  conditions  of  its 
connection  with  the  cerebrum,  during  the  quiescent 
state,  we  are  entering  a  field  where  we  shall  meet  a 
thousand  speculations,  and  perhaps  not  one  reliable 
truth  beyond  the  simple  fact  that,  while  life  lasts,  some 
connection  between  mind  and  matter  must  be  main- 
tained. We  may  imagine  that  connection  to  be  inter- 
mediate only, — kept  up,  it  may  be,  directly  with  what 
Bichat  calls  the  system  of  organic  life,f  and  only  through 
the  medium  of  that  system,  by  anastomosis,  or  otherwise, 
with  the  system  of  animal  life  and  its  center,  the  cere- 
bral lobes ;  or  we  may  suppose  the  connection  still  to 
continue  direct  with  the  brain.  All  we  know  is  that,  at 
any  moment,  in  healthy  sleep,  a  sound  more  or  less  loud, 
a  touch  more  or  less  rude,  suffices  to  restore  the  brain 
to  complete  activity,  and  to  re-establish,  if  it  ever  was 
interrupted,  its  direct  communication  with  the  mind. 

The  Cartesian  doctrine  that  the  soul  never  sleeps  is 
incapable  alike  of  refutation  and  of  practical  applica- 


*  Cases  of  catalepsy,  or  trance,  in  which  for  days  no  action  of  the  heart 
or  lungs  is  cognizable  by  the  senses  of  the  most  experienced  physician,  so 
that  actual  death  has  been  supposed,  are  of  common  occurrence ;  yet  no  one 
concludes  that,  however  deep  the  trance,  the  heart  has  ceased  to  beat,  or 
the  lungs  to  play.  Their  action  is  so  much  enfeebled  as  to  have  become 
imperceptible:  that  is  all. 

f  See  *'  Richerchea  phyaiologiques  mtr  la  Vie  et  la  Mori,"  par  X.  Bich&t, 
3d  ed.,  Paris,  1805,  p.  3. 

His  division  of  the  animal  functions  is  into  two  classes:  those  of  organic 
life  and  those  of  animal  life;  the  first  including  the  functions  of  respiration, 
circulation,  nutrition,  secretion,  absorption,  the  instinctive  or  automatic 
/unctions  common  to  animal  and  vegetable  life;  the  second  restricted  to 
animal  life  alone,  and  including  the  functions  which  connect  man  and  ani- 
mals with  the  external  world, — as  of  sensation,  volition,  vocal  expression, 
and  locomotion. 

11 


122  DOUBTS    RESULTING.  FROiM 

tion.  If  we  imagine  that  the  soul  has  need  of  rest,  we 
must  admit,  as  a  corollary,  that  sleep  is  a  phenomenon 
that  will  be  met  with  in  the  next  world  as  it  is  in  this. 
If,  on  the  other  hand,  we  assert  that  there  can  be  no 
moment  in  which  an  immortal  spirit  has  not  thoughts 
and  sensations,  it  may  be  replied  that  the  words  thought 
and  sensation,  when  used  by  human  beings  in  regard  to 
their  present  phase  of  life,  properly  apply  only  to  men- 
tal conditions  which  presuppose  the  action  of  the  human 
brain;  and  that,  as  to  the  action  of  the  soul  without  the 
action  of  the  brain,  if  such  a  state  can  be  while  the  soul 
is  connected  with  the  body,  it  evinces  lack  of  wisdom  to 
occupy  ourselves  about  it.  We  can  predicate  nothing 
in  regard  to  it;  not  having  in  our  human  vocabulary 
even  the  words  necessary  to  embody  any  conceptions  of 
its  phenomena. 

Thus,  even  when  we  admit  that  it  is  the  bodily  or- 
gans only,  not  the  spiritual  principle,  that  experience  a 
sense  of  fatigue  and  the  necessity  for  intermittence  of 
action,  we  do  not  concede,  by  the  admission,  that 
dreams,  in  the  proper  acceptation  of  the  term,  pervade 
all  sleep. 

We  approach  a  solution  more  closely  when  we  inquire 
whether,  as  a  general  rule,  persons  who  are  suddenly 
awakened  from  a  profound  sleep  are,  at  the  moment  of 
awaking,  conscious  of  having  dreamed.  But  here  phy- 
siologists are  not  agreed  as  to  the  facts.  Locke  appears 
to  have  assumed  the  negative.  Macnish  declares,  as  the 
result  of  certain  experinients  made  on  purpose,  that 
in  the  majority  of  cases  the  sleeper  retained  at  the 
moment  of  waking  no  such  consciousness.*  This  I  much 
doabt.  It  is  certain  that,  unless  such  experiments  are 
conducted  with  scrupulous  care,  the  true  results  may 
leadily  escape  us.     If,  two  years  ago,  I  had  myself  been 

♦  Hazlitt,  in  bia  "Bound  Table,"  alleges  the  contrary. 


A   PERSONAL   OBSERVATION.  123 

asked  whether  I  was  in  the  habit  of  dreaming,  I  should 
have  replied  that  I  very  rarely  dreamed  at  all;  the 
fact  being  then,  as  it  still  is,  that  I  scarcely  ever  have 
a  dream  which  I  remember,  or  could  repeat,  even  at 
breakfast  the  next  morning.  But  my  attention  having 
been  recently  attracted  to  the  subject,  so  that  I  acquired 
the  habit  of  taking  special  note  of  my  sensations  at  the 
moment  of  awaking,  1  became  aware,  after  repeated  ob- 
servations, that  in  every  instance  I  was  conscious  of 
having  dreamed.  Yet,  with  very  few  exceptions,  the 
memory  of  my  sleeping  thought  was  so  vague  and 
fugitive,  that  even  after  ten,  or  perhaps  five,  seconds,  it 
had  faded  away,  and  that  so  completely  that  I  found  it 
quite  impossible  to  recall  or  repeat  my  dream.  After 
that  period  I  remembered  nothing,  except  that  I  had 
been  conscious  of  having  dreamed;  and,  to  obtain  in 
every  case  the  certainty  even  of  this,  I  had  to  awake 
with  the  intention  of  making  the  observation.  So  ex- 
ceedingly brief  and  shadowy  and  fleeting  were  these 
perceptions,  that  in  the  great  majority  of  cases  no 
effort  I  could  make  sufficed  to  arrest  them.  They  es- 
caped even  at  the  moment  I  was  endeavoring  to  stamp 
them  on  my  memory. 

It  is  true  that  these  observations  were  usually  made 
at  the  moment  of  awaking,  naturally,  from  a  night's 
sleep,  and  that  the  strongest  advocates  of  the  theory  of 
dreamless  sleep  (as  Lord  Brougham,  in  his  "Discourse  on 
Natural  Theology")  admit  that  the  imperfect  sleep 
bordering  on  the  waking  state  is  full  of  dreams.  But 
yet  the  reality  in  connection  with  sleeping  thoughts  of 
a  memory  so  feeble  and  evanescent  that  it  requires  an 
intentional  effort  to  detect  its  existence,  should  induce 
us  to  receive  with  many  scruples  the  assertions  of  those 
who  declare  that  they  have  no  dreams.* 

♦  As  of  a  young  man,  meEtioned  by  Locke,  (Essay  on  *'Human  Uuder^ 
*tandi-\g"  Book  II.  chap  1.  §  14,)  a  scholar  with  so  bad  memory,  who  de- 


VA4i  PHASES   OF   SLEEP   WHICH 

Another  argument  in  this  connection  is  the  fact,  of 
which  almost  every  one,  probably,  has  taken  frequent 
note,  that  we  seldom  awake  from  brief  sleep,  no  matter 
how  sound  and  tranquil  it  may  have  been,  without  a 
consciousness  of  time  elapsed  since  we  fell  asleep.  But 
time,  or  rather  human  perception  of  it,  can  exist  only 
in  connection  with  a  series  of  thoughts  or  sensations. 
Hence  the  probability  that  such,  even  during  that  deep 
and  motionless  slumber,  affected  the  mind. 

Upon  the  whole,  though  we  cannot  disprove  the 
theory  put  forth  by  Locke  and  other  maintainers  of 
dreamless  sleep,  the  probabilities  seem  to  me  against 
it.  Since  numerous  indications  assure  us  that  in  a 
thousand  cases  in  which  sleep  seems  dreamless,  and  even 
insensibility  complete,  there  exists  a  constant  succession 
of  thoughts  and  sensations,  I  think  there  is  sufficient 
reason  to  agree,  with  Brodie,  that  "  not  to  dream  seems 
to  be  not  the  rule,  but  the  exception  to  the  rule;"*  and, 
jf  it  be,  how  many  of  the  phenomena  of  sleep  may  have 
hitherto  escaped  our  observation  !  How  many  more  may 
be  covered  by  a  vail  that  will  forever  remain  impene- 
trable to  mortal  eyes ! 

That  large  class  of  phenomena  occurring  during 
sleep,  of  which  we  retain  no  recollection  after  sleep,  and 
which  are  thus  disconnected  from  waking  consciousness, 
have  attracted,  as  they  eminently  deserve,  much  more 
attention  in  modern  times,  particularly  during  the  last 
seventy  years,  than  at  any  former  period.  Seventy-five 
years  ago  somnambulism  (artificially  induced)  was 
unknown.  But  coma,  somnambulism,  trance,  ecstasy,  may 
be  properly  regarded  as  but  phases  of  sleep  3  abnormal, 
indeed,  and  therefore  varying  widely  in  some  respects 
from   natural   sleep,  yet   all   strictly   hypnotic    states; 

clared  that  till  he   had  a  fever,  in   his    twenty-sixth  year,  he  had  newr 
dreamed  in  his  life. 

•  *' Psychological  Inquiries,"  hy  Sir  B.  Brodie,  3d  ed.,  p.  143. 


HAVE   MUCH   IN   COMMON.  125 

which  we  do  well  to  study  in  their  connection  with 
each  other. 

We  shall  find  that  they  have  much  in  common.  The 
same  insensibility  which  often  supervenes  during  som- 
nambulism and  during  coma  presents  itself  in  a  degree 
during  ordinary  sleep.  Children,  especially,  are  often 
roused  from  sleep  with  difficulty;  and  sound  sleepers  of 
adult  age  frequently  remain  unconscious  of  loud  noises  or 
other  serious  disturbances.  It  has  not  unfrequently  oc- 
curred to  myself  to  hear  nothing,  or  at  least  to  retain 
no  recollection  of  having  heard  any  thing,  of  a  long- 
continued  and  violent  thunder-storm,  that  disturbed  and 
alarmed  my  neighbors;  and  in  the  year  1856,  being 
then  in  Naples,  I  slept  quietly  through  an  earthquake, 
the  shock  of  which  filled  the  streets  with  terrified 
thousands,  imploring  the  compassion  of  the  Madonna. 

Some  even  of  the  most  remarkable  phenomena  of 
somnambulism  and  ecstasy  appear  in  modified  form 
during  natural  sleep.  That  exaltation  of  the  mental 
powers  which  forms  one  of  the  chief  features  of  the 
above-named  states  is  to  be  met  with,  in  numerous 
examples,  during  simple  dreaming.  We  read  that 
Cabanis,  in  dreams,  often  saw  clearly  the  bearings 
of  political  events  which  had  baffled  him  when  awake ; 
and  that  Condorcet,  when  engaged  in  some  deep  and 
complicated  calculations,  was  frequently  obliged  to  leave 
them  in  an  unfinished  state  and  retire  to  rest,  when 
the  results  to  which  they  led  were  unfolded  to  him  in 
dreams.*  Brodie  mentions  the  case  of  a  friend  of  his, 
a  distinguished  chemist  and  natural  philosopher,  who 
assured  him  that  he  had  more  than  once  contrived  in  a 
dream  an  apparatus  for  an  experiment  he  proposed  to 
make;  and  that  of  another  friend,  a  mathematician  and 
a  man  of  extensive  general  information,  who  has  solved 


*  Macnish's  "Philoaophy  of  Sleip,*' 
U* 


126  THE    SLEEPING    POWERS    MAY 

problems  when  asleep  which  baffled  him  in  his  waking 
state.  The  same  author  mentions  the  case  of  an  ac- 
quaintance of  his,  a  solicitor,  who,  being  perplexed  as  to 
the  legal  management  of  a  case,  imagined,  in  a  dream, 
a  mode  of  proceeding  which  had  not  occurred  to  him 
when  awake,  and  which  he  adopted  with  success. 

Carpenter  admits  that  "  the  reasoning  processes  may 
bo  carried  on  during  sleep  with  unusual  vigor  and 
success,"  and  cites,  as  an  example,  the  case  of  Condillac, 
who  tells  us  that,  when  engaged  in  his  '^  Cours  d'Etude,'' 
he  frequently  developed  a  subject  in  his  dreams  which 
he  had  broken  off  before  retiring  to  rest.  Carpenter 
supposes  this  to  occur  "in  consequence  of  the  freedom 
from  distraction  resulting  from  the  suspension  of  ex- 
ternal influences."* 

Abercrombie,  in  this  connection,  adduces  the  case  of 
Dr.  Gregory,  who  had  thoughts  occurring  to  him  in 
dreams,  and  even  the  very  expressions  in  which  they 
were  conveyed,  which  appeared  to  him  afterward,  when 
awake,  so  just  in  point  of  reasoning  and  illustration, 
and  so  happily  worded,  that  he  used  them  in  his  lectures 
and  in  his  lucubrations.  Even  our  own  practical  and 
unimaginative  Franklin  appears  to  have  furnished  an 
example  of  this  exaltation  of  the  intellect  during 
sleep.  "Dr.  Franklin  informed  Cabanis,"  says  Aber- 
crombie, "that  the  bearings  and  issue  of  political 
events  which  had  puzzled  him  when  awake  were  not 
unfrequently  unfolded  to  him  in  his  dreams."  f 

A  still  nearer  approach  to  some  of  the  phenomena  of 
artificial  somnambulism  and  ecstasy,  and  to  the  invo- 
luntary writing  of  modern  mediums,  is  made  when  the 
sleeping  man  produces  an  actual  record  of  his  dreaming 
thoughts.     Of  this  a  remarkable  example  is  adduced  by 

*  "Principles  of  Human  Physiolngy,"  p.  643. 

f  Abercrombie's  "Intellectual  Powers,"  I6th  ed.,  p.  221. 


EXCEED    THE    WAKING.  127 

A  bercrombie,  in  the  case  of  a  distinguished  lawyer  of 
the  last  century,  in  whose  family  records  all  the  parti- 
culars are  preserved.     They  are  as  follows : — 

*<  This  eminent  person  had  been  consulted  respecting 
a  case  of  great  importance  and  much  difficulty,  and  ho 
had  been  studying  it  with  intense  anxiety  and  atten 
tion.  After  several  days  had  been  occupied  in  this 
manner,  he  was  observed  by  his  wife  to  rise  from  his 
bed  in  the  night  and  go  to  a  writing-desk  which  stood 
in  the  bedroom.  He  then  sat  down  and  wrote  a  long 
paper,  which  he  carefully  put  by  in  the  desk,  and  re- 
turned to  bed.  The  following  morning  he  told  his  wife 
he  had  had  a  most  interesting  dream;  that  he  had 
dreamed  of  delivering  a  clear  and  luminous  opinion  re- 
specting a  case  which  had  exceedingly  perplexed  him,  and 
he  would  give  any  thing  to  recover  the  train  of  thought 
which  had  passed  before  him  in  his  sleep.  She  then 
directed  him  to  the  writing-desk,  where  he  found  the 
opinion  clearly  and  fully  written  out.  It  was  after- 
ward found  to  be  perfectly  correct."* 

Carpenter  admits,  during  certain  phases  of  sleep,  the 
exaltation  not  only  of  the  mental  powers,  but  of  the 
senses.     Speaking  of  what  Mr.  Braid  calls  hypnotisnij'f — 


*  Abercrombie,  Work  cited,  p.  222. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  remind  the  reader  that  the  cases  above  ad- 
duced, though  numerous,  are  exceptional.  As  a  general  rule,  the  reasoning 
powers  are  enfeebled  during  sleep.  "  Sometimes,"  says  MUUer,  {Phyiology, 
Baly's  translation,  p.  1417,)  "we  reason  more  or  less  accurately  in  our 
dreams.  We  reflect  on  problems,  and  rejoice  in  their  solution.  But  on 
awaking  from  such  dreams  the  seeming  reasoning  is  found  to  be  no 
reasoning  at  all,  and  the  solutioD  over  which  we  had  rejoiced  to  be  mere 
nonsense." 

This,  also,  is  not  without  its  analogy  in  somnambulism  and  ecstasy. 
The  opinions  expressed  and  the  statements  made  during  these  states  are 
often  altogether  untrustworthy. 

t  "Neurypnology  ;  or.  The  Rationale  of  Sleep,"  by  James  Braid,  M.R.C.S.E., 
London,  1843. 


128  carpenter's  observations. 

which  is,  in  fact,  only  sleep  artificially  induced  by 
gazing  fixedly  on  any  near  object, — he  mentions  some 
cases  that  have  come  under  his  observation,  thus  : — 

"  The  author  has  witnessed  a  case  in  which  such  an 
exaltation  of  the  sense  of  smell  was  manifested,  that 
the  subject  of  it  discovered,  without  difficulty,  the 
owner  of  a  glove  placed  in  his  hands  in  an  assemblage 
of  fifty  or  sixty  persons ;  and  in  the  same  case,  as  in 
many  others,  there  was  a  similar  exaltation  of  the  sense 
of  temperature.  The  exaltation  of  the  muscular  sense, 
by  which  various  actions  that  ordinarily  require  the 
guidance  of  vision  are  directed  independently  of  it,  is 
a  phenomenon  common  to  the  mesmeric,  with  various 
other  forms  of  artificial  as  well  as  natural  somnam- 
bulism. 

^'  The  author  has  repeatedly  seen  Mr.  Braid's  hyp- 
notized subjects  write  with  the  most  perfect  regularity, 
when  an  opaque  screen  was  interposed  between  their 
eyes  and  the  paper,  the  lines  being  equidistant  and 
parallel;  and  it  is  not  uncommon  for  the  writer  to  carry 
back  his  pencil  or  pen  to  dot  an  i,  or  cross  a  t,  or  make 
some  other  correction  in  a  letter  or  word.  Mr.  B.  had 
one  patient  who  would  thus  go  back  and  correct  with 
accuracy  the  writing  on  a  whole  sheet  of  note-paper; 
but,  if  the  paper  was  moved  from  the  position  it  had 
previously  occupied  on  the  table,  all  the  corrections 
were  on  the  wrong  points  of  the  paper  as  regarded  the 
actual  place  of  the  writing,  though  on  the  right  points 
as  regarded  its  previous  place.  Sometimes,  however, 
he  would  take  a  fresh  departure,  by  feeling  for  the 
upper  left-hand  corner  of  the  paper;  and  all  his  cor- 
rections were  then  made  in  their  right  positions,  not- 
withstanding the  displacement  of  the  paper."* 

Again,  Dr.  Carpenter  informs  us  that  when  the  atten- 

*  "Principles  of  Human  Physiology  "  p.  (vl6. 


DARWIN'S   THEORY.  129 

lion  of  the  patient  was  fixed  on  a  coitain  train  of 
thought,  whatever  happened  to  be  spoken  in  harmony 
with  this  was  heard  and  appreciated ;  but  what  had  no 
relation  to  it,  or  was  in  discordance  with  it,  was  entirely 
disregarded. 

What  can  be  more  completely  in  accordance  with 
certain  somnambulic  phenomena,  of  which  the  exist- 
ence has  been  stoutly  denied,  than  all  this  ? 

But  a  little  careful  search  in  this  field  may  disclose  to 
us  points  of  resemblance  more  numerous  still.  It 
belongs  more  properly  to  the  next  chapter,  on  Dream- 
ing, than  to  this,  to  inquire  whether,  in  exceptional 
cases,  during  natural  sleep,  there  do  not  present  them- 
selves some  of  the  most  extraordinary  powers  or  attri- 
butes, the  alleged  and  seldom-credited  phenomena  of 
somnambulism, — such  as  clear-sight,  (clairvoyance,)  far* 
sight,  (yue  a  distance,)  and  even  that  most  strongly 
contested  of  all,  the  faculty  of  presentiment,  the  pro- 
phetic instinct. 

But  there  is  another  point  of  analogy,  connected 
with  the  renovating  influence  of  sleep  and  the  causew 
which  render  necessary  to  man  such  an  intermittent 
action,  to  which  it  may  be  useful  here  to  allude. 

It  would  be  very  incorrect  to  say  that  the  continued 
exercise  of  any  function  induces  fatigue,  and  conse- 
quently necessitates  sleep.  It  is  well  known  that  this 
is  true  of  some  functions  only.  It  is  not  true  of  the 
functions  of  organic  life,  the  automatic  or  involuntary 
functions.  We  tire  of  walking,  we  tire  of  thinking,  we 
tire  of  seeing  or  hearing,  or  of  directing  the  attention 
in  any  way  to  external  objects;  but  we  never  tire  of 
breathing,  though  breathing  is  a  more  continued  action 
than  any  of  these. 

This  obvious  fact  suggested  to  physiologists,  before 
Darwin's  time,  the  opinion  which  was  fii-st  prominently 
brought  forward  by  that  naturalist,  that  the  essential 
I 


180  SUSPENSION    OF   VOLITION. 

part  of  sleep  is  the  suspension  of  volition.  And  some  have 
gone  so  far  as  to  assert  that  the  only  source  of  fatigue, 
aiid  therefore  the  sole  necessitating  cause  of  sleep, 
is  the  exercise  of  volition;  adducing  in  support  of 
this  theory  the  observation,  that  when  the  muscles 
of  an  arm  or  a  leg  are  contracted  under  the  influence 
of  the  will,  fatigue  follows  in  a  few  minutes;  while  the 
same  contraction  taking  place  involuntarily  (as  in 
catalepsy,  whether  naturally  or  mesmerically  induced) 
may  continue  for  a  long  time  without  any  fatigue 
w^hatever. 

But  we  cannot  adopt  unconditionally  such  an  opinion 
without  assuming  that  there  is  no  waking  state  in 
which  the  volition  is  suspended  or  inactive.  For  we 
know  of  no  waking  state,  no  matter  how  listless  and 
purposeless,  the  continuance  of  which  obviates  the  ne- 
cessity, after  a  comparatively  brief  interval,  for  sleep. 
Nor  is  it  true  that  men  of  strong  will  and  constant 
activity  always  require  more  sleep  than  the  indo- 
lent and  infirm  of  purpose.  Three  or  four  hours  out  of 
the  twenty-four  are  said  to  have  sufficed,  for  months  at 
a  time,  to  Napoleon,  the  very  embodiment  of  energetic 
purpose  and  unceasing  activity  of  volition. 

Not  the  less,  however,  must  we  admit  the  truth  and 
importance  of  Darwin's  remark,  that  the  essential  con- 
dition of  sleep  is  the  suspension  of  volition.  And  in 
this  respect  the  resemblance  is  striking  between  sleep 
and  the  various  states  of  the  human  system  during 
which  mesmeric  and  what  have  been  called  spirit- 
ual phenomena  present  themselves.  The  somnara- 
bule,  the  ''medium,"  are  told  that  the  first  condi- 
tion of  success  in  the  production  of  the  phenomena 
sought  is,  that  the  subject  should  remain  absolutely 
passive;  that  he  should  implicitly  surrender  to  the 
action  of  external  influences  his  will.  Indeed,  the  som- 
nambule   is   put   to   sleep,  if  artificially,  not   the    lewi 


HYPNOTIC    PHENOMENA.  181 

absolutely,  by  the  magnetizer.  And  when  a  medium 
joins  a  circle  around  the  table,  or  engages  in  auto- 
matic writing,  drowsiness,  after  a  brief  period,  is 
usually  induced. 

Upon  the  whole,  the  facts  seem  to  justify  the  asser- 
tion that  all  mesmeric  and  so-called  spiritual  phenomena, 
80  far  as  they  depend  on  a  peculiar  condition  of  the 
human  system,  are  more  or  less  hypnotic  in  their  cha- 
racter. To  obtain  a  proper  understanding  of  their  true 
nature,  and  a  discrinninating  appreciation  of  the  results 
obtained,  this  should  constantly  be  borne  in  mind. 

For  the  rest,  it  may  be  doubted  whether  the  popular 
opinion  that  it  is  only  during  sleep  that  there  is  accumu- 
lation in  the  cerebral  lobes  of  the  nervous  fluid  be  a 
correct  one,  and  whether  we  ought  to  consider  the 
expenditure  of  that  fluid  as  restricted  to  the  waking 
state. 

The  better  opinion  appears  to  be,  that,  as  a  general 
rule,  there  are,  at  all  times,  both  a  generation  and  a  con- 
sumption; that,  whether  during  the  sleeping  or  waking 
state,  that  mysterious  process  which  supplies  renovating 
force  to  the  human  system  is  constantly  going  on, — the 
supply  falling  short  of  the  demand  upon  it,  and  therefore 
gradually  diminishing,  during  our  waking  hours,  but  ex- 
ceeding it,  and  therefore  gradually  accumulating,  during 
sleep.  In  other  words,  we  may  suppose  the  supply  regu- 
lar and  constant,  both  by  day  and  night,  as  in  the  case 
of  that  other  automatic  process,  as  little  understood, 
of  assimilation;  and  the  demand  never  wholly  ceasing, 
nor  ever,  perhaps,  perfectly  regular  in  its  requisitions, 
but  intermittent  as  to  quantity,  usually  every  twenty- 
four  hours, — making,  so  long  as  the  will  is  in  action  and 
the  senses  are  awake,  its  calls  at  such  a  rate  as  must, 
after  a  time,  exhaust  the  supply ;  and  then  again,  during 
the  comparative  inactioQ  of  sleep,  restricting  these  calls, 


\d2  HOW   IS   THE   NERVOUS 

SO  that  tne  nervous  fluid  can  increase  in  quantity  and 
a  surplus  accumulate  before  morning. 

That,  in  all  cases,  a  certain  reserve  fund  remains  is 
evident  from  the  fact  that,  under  circumstances  of 
urgency,  we  can  postpone  sleep  even  for  several  nights. 
But  this  encroachment  is  usually  attended  with  in- 
jurious results.  Nor  does  it  appear  that  the  brain  can 
be  overloaded  with  nervous  fluid,  any  more  than  it  can 
be  unduly  deprived  of  it,  without  injury;  for  there  aro 
diseases  induced  by  excessive  sleep. 

It  would  seem,  also,  that  the  brain  can  only  deal  out 
its  supply  of  nervous  force  at  a  certain  rate. 

For  an  exercise  of  violent  volition  is  commonly  suc- 
ceeded, after  a  brief  period,  by  exhaustion;  and  rest 
(which  is  a  very  different  thing  from  sleep,  being  only 
a  cessation  from  active  exertion)  becomes  necessary 
before  a  second  such  call  on  the  nervous  reservoir  can 
be  made. 

Mow  that  reservoir  is  supplied, — by  what  precise  pro- 
cess there  is  generated  in  the  cerebrum  that  store  of 
fluid  or  force,  the  most  wonderful  of  all  the  imponder 
ables,  without  which,  in  the  human  system,  there  would 
be  neither  exercise  of  volition  nor  any  outward  sign  of 
intelligence;  whether  this  mysterious  agent  is,  after  all, 
but  a  modification  of  that  proteus-showing  fluid,  the 
electrical,  or,  if  not  electrical,  whether  it  may  not  be 
of  electroid  character: — these  various  questions  how 
shall  we  determine? — we  who,  after  the  lapse  of  twenty- 
five  centuries  since  Thales's  first  observation  on  a  bit 
of  amber,  can  scarcely  tell,  when  we  speak  of  positive 
and  negative  electricity,  which  hypothesis  is  the  more 
correct, — 'that  of  a  single  agent,  now  in  excess,  now  in 
deficiency,  or  that  of  two  electricities,  the  vitreous  and 
the  resinous;  we  who,  indeed,  have  but  learned  enough 
to  become  conscious  that  this  very  agency  itself,  called 
by  us  electrical,  must  yet  be  spoken  of  as  unknown, — 


RESERVOIR   SUPPLIED?  138 

iinkiiown  in  its  essence,  albeit  observed,  by  thousands 
of  naturalists,  in  some  of  its  effects.* 

Intelligent  physiologists  and  psychologists,  it  is  true, 
have  speculated  on  this  subject;  Sir  Benjamin  Brodie, 
for  example.  Speaking  of  the  changes  which  the  nervous 
system  may  be  supposed  to  undergo  in  connection  with 
mental  processes,  and  in  reply  to  the  questions,  "Are 
these  simply  mechanical?  or  do  they  resemble  the 
chemical  changes  in  inorganic  matter?  or  do  they  not 
rather  belong  to  that  class  of  phenomena  which  we  refer 
to  imponderable  agents,  such  as  electricity  and  mag- 
netism ?'*  he  says,  "The  transmission  of  impressions 
from  one  part  of  the  nervous  system  to  another,  or 
from  the  nervous  system  to  the  muscular  and  glandular 
structures,  has  a  nearer  resemblance  to  the  effects  pro- 
duced by  the  imponderable  agents  alluded  to  than  to 
any  thing  else.  It  seems  very  probable,  indeed,  that 
the  nervous  force  is  some  modification  of  that  force 
which  produces  the  phenomena  of  electricity  and  mag- 
netism; and  I  have  already  ventured  to  compare  the 
generation  of  it  by  the  action  of  the  oxygenized  blood 

*  A  few  years  since,  at  the  meeting  of  the  British  Association  for  the 
Advancement  of  Science  held  at  Swansea,  a  discussion  having  arisen  as  to 
the  essence  or  nature  of  electricity,  and  an  appeal  having  been  made  to 
Faraday  for  his  opinion  on  the  subject,  what  did  he,  the  first  electrician 
perhaps  of  the  age,  reply  ?  "  There  was  a  time  when  I  thought  I  knew 
something  about  the  matter;  but  the  longer  I  live  and  the  more  carefully  I 
study  the  subject,  the  more  convinced  I  am  of  my  total  ignorance  of  the 
nature  of  electricity." — Quoted  by  Bakewell,  in  his  "Electric  Science,"  p.  99. 

"Some  of  the  conditions  which  we  call  the  laica  of  electricity  and  of 
magnetism  are  known.  These  may  not  improperly  be  viewed  as  their 
habits  or  modes  of  action, — the  ways  in  which  they  manifest  themselves  to 
some  of  our  senses.  But  of  what  they  consist,  whether  they  possess  proper- 
ties peculiar  to  themselves  and  independent  of  the  ponderable  substances 
with  which  we  have  always  found  them  associated,  or  in  what  respecta 
they  differ  from  light  and  heat  and  from  each  other,  is  beyond  the  range 
of  oar  experience  and,  probably,  of  our  comprehension." — Butter's  Human 
Electrieity,  pp.  47,  48. 

12 


134  THE  CEREBRAL  BATTERY,  AND 

on  the  gray  substance  of  the  brain  and  spinal  cord,  to 
the  production  of  the  electric  force  by  the  action  of  the 
acid  solution  on  the  metallic  plates  in  the  cells  of  a 
voltaic  battery."* 

Such  a  view  may  assist  our  insufficient  conceptions ; 
yet,  in  all  reasonable  probability,  when  we  liken  the 
nervous  force  or  fluid  to  electricity,  and  the  action  of 
the  cerebrum  to  that  of  an  electric  or  galvanic  appa- 
ratus, the  comparison  should  be  understood  as  illustra- 
tive and  approximating, — as  embodying  only  an  adum- 
bration of  the  truth, — not  as  indicating  a  close  resem- 
blance, still  less  a  strict  and  positive  identity  of  action. 

That,  in  some  way  or  other,  the  blood  is  an  agent  in 
the  generation  of  the  nervous  force  can  scarcely  be 
doubted.  Sir  Henry  Holland,  speaking  of  the  intimate 
relations  between  the  nervous  and  vascular  systems, 
and  the  obvious  structural  connection  of  the  nerves  and 
blood-vessels,  adds,  "We  cannot  designate  a  single  part 
m  the  whole  economy  of  animal  life  in  which  we  do  not 
find  these  two  great  powers  conjointly  concerned, — 
their  co-operation  so  essential  that  no  single  function 
can  be  perfectly  performed  without  it.  The  blood  and 
the  nervous  force,  so  far  as  we  know,  are  the  only 
agents  which  actually  pervade  the  body  throughout; 
the  connection  of  the  machinery  by  which  they  are  con- 
veyed becoming  closer  in  proportion  as  we  get  nearer 
to  the  ultimate  limits  of  observation.  Besides  those 
results  of  their  co-operation  which  have  regard  to  the 
numerous  other  objects  and  phenomena  of  life,  we  cannot 
doubt  the  existence  of  a  reciprocal  action  upon  each 
other,  necessary  to  the  maintenance  and  completeness 
of  their  respective  powers."  ....  "We  cannot,  in- 
deed, follow,  with  any  clear  understanding,  the  notion 

•  "  Psycholoffkal  Inquiries"  by  Sir  Benjamin  Brodie,  London,  1856,  vol.  iii. 
pp.  158,  159. 


HOW    IT    MAT    POSSIBLY   BE    CHARGED.  185 

of  the  nervous  element  as  evolved  by  the  action  of  the 
blood,  or  as  actually  derived  from  the  blood,  and  depend- 
ing for  its  maintenance  and  energy  on  the  conditions 
of  this  fluid.  Yet  we  can  hardly  doubt  that  mutual 
actions  and  relations  of  some  such  nature  really  exist. 
Evidence  to  this  effect  is  furnished,  directly  or  indirectly, 
by  all  the  natural  phenomena  of  health,  and  even  more 
remarkably  by  the  results  of  disorder  and  disease.  The 
whole  inquiry  is  of  singular  importance  to  the  physiology 
of  animal  life."* 

Taking  into  view  the  above  remarks,  and  assuming 
Brodie's  suggestion  as  to  the  electroid  character  of  the 
nervous  element, — bearing  in  mind,  too,  that  hoematin, 
one  of  the  constituents  of  the  blood,  has  seven  or  eight 
per  cent,  of  iron,  while  other  portions  contain,  in  smaller 
quantities,  other  metals,  and  that,  in  consequence,  we 
have  an  electroid  force  or  agent  brought  into  intimate 
relation  with  a.  metal-hearing  fluid,  a  condition  that  may 
be  supposed  favorable  to  something  resembling  electro- 
chemical action, — have  we  not  a  hint  as  to  the  manner 
in  which  (to  borrow  analogous  terms  in  default  of  accu- 
rate ones)  the  cerebral  battery  may  possibly  be  charged  ? 

How  closely,  when  we  touch  on  such  topics,  are  wo 
approaching  the  confines  of  human  knowledge  !  A  step 
or  two  further  in  this  direction  we  may,  indeed,  some 
day  advance;  but  what  then?  "The  chain  of  our 
knowledge,"  says  Berzelius,  "  ends  ever  at  last  in  a  link 
unknown."  If  even  we  could  discover  how  this  battery 
is  charged,  a  deeper  mystery  remains  still  vailed;  the 
manner,  namel}^  in  which  the  spiritual  principle  within 
*8  avails  itself  of  this  wonderful  mechanism  to  produce 
inotion  and  direct  thought.  , 

And  another  inquiry,  more  immediately  connecting 

*  "  Chaptera  on  Mental  Phytiology,"  by  Sir  Henry  Holland,  M.D.,  Lon- 
don, 1?52. 


136  A   HYPOTHESIS. 

the  foregoing  digression  with  the  subject  of  this  chapter, 
may  be  mooted  here, — an  inquiry  which  some  will  dis- 
miss as  unworthy  even  to  be  entertained,  but  which, 
nevertheless,  is  justified,  in  my  eyes,  by  its  connection 
with  certain  psychological  phenomena  to  be  presented  in 
subsequent  portions  of  this  volume;  the  inquiry,  namely, 
whether,  in  certain  exceptional  conditions  of  the  human 
system,  as  occasionally  during  dreams,  or  under  other 
circumstances  when  the  will  is  surrendered,  some  imma- 
terial principle  or  occult  intelligence  other  than  our  own 
may  not,  for  a  time  and  to  a  certain  extent,  possess  itself 
of  the  power  to  employ  the  cerebral  mechanism  so  as  to 
suggest  or  inspire  thoughts  and  feelings  which,  though 
in  one  sense  our  own,  yet  come  to  us  from  a  foreign 
source. 

Such  a  hypothesis,  though  adopted  at  the  present  day 
by  not  a  few  sensible  men,  may,  I  well  know,  startle  as 
incredible  the  majority  of  my  readers.  I  remind  them 
that  the  first  question  is,  not  whether  it  be  true,  but 
whether  it  be  worth  examining.  "In  the  infancy  of  a 
science,'^  says  Brewster,  "there,  is  no  speculation  so 
worthless  as  not  to  merit  examination.  The  most  re- 
mote and  fixnciful  explanations  of  facts  have  often  been 
found  the  true  ones;  and  opinions  which  have  in  one 
century  been  objects  of  ridicule  have  in  the  next  been 
admitted  among  the  elements  of  our  knowledge.^'* 

If  still  there  be  among  my  readers  those  who  are  dis- 
posed to  reject  at  the  threshold  the  inquiry  in  question, 
as  savoring  of  superstition,  I  pray  them  to  postpone 
decision  in  regard  to  it  until  they  shall  have  read  the 
chapters  which  follow,  especially  the  next,  treating 
a  subject  which  it  is  difficult  to  disconnect  from  that 
of  sleep  in  the  abstract;  the  subject,  namely,  of  dreams. 

*  "  The  Martyrs  of  Science"  by  Sir  David  Brewster,  3d  e<i.,  Londooi 
1856,  p.  219. 


CHAPTER  11. 

DREAMS. 

"  In  a  dream,  in  a  vision  of  the  night,  when  deep  sleep  falleth  upon  mon 
in  slumberings  upon  the  bed ;  then  God  openeth  the  ears  of  men,  and  seal 
eth  their  instruction." — Job  xxxiii.  14. 

Modern  writers  on  the  phenomena  of  sleep  usually 
concur  in  the  assertion  that  man's  sleeping  thoughts  are 
meaningless  and  inconsequent,  and  that  dreams  are, 
therefore,  untrustworthy. 

Such  was  not  the  opinion  of  our  ancestors,  especially 
in  remote  times.  They  attached  great  importance  to 
dreams  and  their  interpretation.  They  had  resort  to 
them  for  guidance  in  cases  of  difficulty  or  of  great  cala- 
mity. Thus,  when  pestilence  spread  among  the  Grecian 
host  before  Troy,  Homer  represents  Achilles  as  proposing 
that  method  of  ascertaining  the  cause  of  what  was  re- 
garded as  an  evidence  of  the  anger  of  the  gods ;  and  his 
reason  for  the  proposal  is, — 

"for  dreams  descend  from  Jove."* 

Aristotle,  Pluto,  Zeno,  Pythagoras,  Socrates,  Xenophon, 
Sophocles,  have  all  expressed,  more  or  less  distinctly, 
their  belief  in  the  divine  or  prophetic  character  of 
dreams.  And  even  some  of  the  ancient  philosophera 
who  denied  all  other  kinds  of  divination,  as  some  dis- 
tinguished Peripatetics,  admitted  those  which  proceeded 
from  frenzy  and  from  dreams."j" 

*  Uomer's  Iliad.  Book  I.  line  85  of  Pope's  translation, 
t  "'cero  "  De  Dlvinatione,"  lib.  i.  g  3.     See  also  g  35  et  »eq. 
The  analogy  between  dreams  and  insanity  has  been  often  notioed.    Arif- 
12*  137 


138  DREAMS   FROM   THE    IVORY   GATE. 

it  does  not  appear,  however,  that  any  of  these  phi- 
losophers  went  so  far  as  to  claim  for  all  dreams  a  divine 
or  reliable  character.  Many  proceeded  from  the  ivory 
gate.  It  was  usually  the  vision  of  some  seer,  or  augur, 
or  priestess,  occurring  within  sacred  or  consecrated 
ground,  to  the  warnings  of  which  implicit  faith  was  at- 
tached. Plato,  however,  seems  to  intimate  that  all 
dreams  might  be  trusted  if  men  would  only  bring  their 
bodies  into  such  a  state,  before  going  to  sleep,  as  to 
leave  nothing  that  might  occasion  error  or  perturbation 
in  their  dreams.* 

Aristotle — whose  works, "like  Bacon's,  may  be  said  to 
have  marked  out  the  limits  of  the  knowledge  of  his  day — 
restricts  to  certain  favored  individuals  this  faculty 
of  prescience.  His  expression,  literally  translated,  is, 
*^  And  that,  as  to  some  persons,  prophecy  occurs  in  dreams, 
is  not  to  be  disbelieved."f 

That  the  modern  opinion  as  to  the  fantastic  and  ima- 
ginative character  of  dreams  is,  in  the  main,  correct; 
that,  when  the  senses  are  overcome  by  slumber,  the 
judgment  also,  as  a  general  rule,  is  either  entirely  in 
abeyance,  or  onlj^  partially  and  very  obscurely  active; 
these  are  facts  so  readily  ascertained,usually  by  a  little  ac- 
curate observation  of  our  own  nightly  sensations,  as  to  bo 

totle  had  already  surmised  that  the  same  cause  which,  in  certain  diseases, 
produces  deception  of  the  waking  senses,  is  the  origin  of  dreams  in 
sleep.  Brierre  de  Boismont  remarks  that  waking  hallucinations  differ 
chiefly  from  dreams  in  their  greater  vivacity.  Macario  considers  what  he 
calls  sensorial  dreams  as  almost  identical  with  hallucination.  HollaJid 
Bays  that  the  relations  and  resemblances  of  dreaming  and  insanity  are 
well  deserving  of  notice,  and  adds,  "A  dream  put  into  action  might  become 
madness,  in  one  or  other  of  its  frequent  forms ;  and,  conversely,  insanity 
may  often  be  called  a  waking  and  active  dream." — "  Chapters  on  3f-'ntal 
Physiology,"  p.  110.  Abercrombie  declares  that  "there  is  a  remarkable 
analogy  between  the  mental  phenomena  in  insanity  and  in  dreaming."— 
"  Intellectual  Powers,"  p.  240. 

*  Quoted  by  Cicero,  "  De  Divinatione,"  lib.  i.  §g  29,  30. 

f  **X>€  Divinatione  et  Somniis"  cap.  L 


FATAL    CREDULITY.  139 

beyond  reasonable  doubt.*  Wbether  for  the  notions  of 
the  ancients  touching  the  higher  character  of  some 
dreams  there  be  not,  in  exceptional  cases,  sufficient 
warrant,  is  a  much  more  difficult  question.f 

Certain  it  is  that  the  framework  of  many  dreams  18 
made  up  of  suggestions  derived  from  waking  ideas  or 
desires  that  have  preceded  them,  or  from  occurrences 
that  happen  during  their  continuance  and  are  partially 
perceived  by  the  sleep-bound  senses. 

The  ruling  passion  of  a  man's  life  is  not  unlikely  to 
shape  itself  into  dreams.  The  constant  thought  of  the 
day  may  encroach  on  the  quiet  of  the  night.  Thus, 
Columbus  dreamed  that  a  voice  said  to  him,  "God  will 
give  thee  the  keys  of  the  gates  of  the  ocean."|  And 
thus  any  earnest  longing,  experienced  when  we  compose 
ourselves  to  sleep,  may  pass  over  into  our  sleeping  con- 
sciousness, and  be  reproduced,  perhaps,  in  some  happy 

*  A  disregard  of  these  truths  has  led  to  fatal  results.  Aubrey,  who  will 
not  be  suspected  of  trusting  too  little  to  dreams,  personally  vouches,  as  will 
be  observed,  for  the  following  : — 

"  Mrs.  CI ,  of  S ,  in  the  county  of  S ,  had  a  beloved  daugh- 
ter, who  had  been  a  long  time  ill  and  received  no  benefit  from  her  physi- 
( 'ens.  Sbe  dreamed  that  a  friend  of  hers,  deceased,  told  her  that  if  she  gave 
her  daughter  a  drench  of  yew  pounded  she  would  recover.  She  gave  her 
the  drench,  and  it  killed  her.  Whereupon  she  grew  almost  distracted  :  her 
chambermaid,  to  compliment  her  and  mitigate  her  grief,  said,  surely  that 
could  not  kill  her:  she  would  adventure  to  take  the  same  herself.  She  did 
so,  and  died  also.  This  was  about  the  year  1670  or  1671.  I  knew  the 
family." — "  Aubrey's  Miscellanies,"  Chapter  on  Dreams,  p.  64  of  Russell 
Smith's  reprint 

f  Such  ideas  are  by  no  means  confined  to  the  ancients,  but  are  to  be  found 
scattered  through  writings  of  repute  in  all  ages.     Here  is  an  example : — 

"  That  there  are  demoniacal  dreams  we  have  little  reason  to  doubt.  Why 
•nay  there  not  be  angelical  ?  If  there  be  guardian  spirits,  they  may  not  be 
inactively  about  us  in  sleep,  but  may  sometimes  order  our  dreams ;  and 
many  strange  hints,  instigations,  and  discourses,  which  are  so  amazing 
unto  us,  may  arise  from  such  foundations." — Sir  Thomas  Browne  :  Chapter 
on  Sleep. 

t  Humboldt's  "  Cosmos,"  vol.  i.  p.  316. 


140  DREAMS  MAY  BE  SUGGESTED 

delusion.  As  true  to  nature  as  graceful  in  art  is  that 
beautiful  vision  of  home  and  its  joys,  described  by  the 
poet  as  occurring,  after  the  battle,  to  the  war-worn 
soldier, — 

"When  sentinel  stars  set  their  watch  in  the  sky, 
When  thousands  had  sunk  on  the  ground  overpowered, 
The  weary  to  sleep,  and  the  wounded  to  die." 

But  it  is  worthy  of  remark  that  it  is  not  alone  domi- 
nant emotions,  not  mental  impressions  of  a  vivid  cha- 
racter only,  that  become  suggestive  of  dreams.  Trifling 
occurrences,  that  have  passed  from  our  recollection 
before  composing  ourselves  to  rest,  are  sometimes  incor- 
porated into  the  visions  of  the  night  that  succeeds.  I 
find  an  example  in  my  journal,  under  date  Naples, 
May  12,  1857  :— 

"  Last  evening  my  servant  informed  me  that  a  house, 
the  second  from  that  which  I  inhabit,  and  just  across 
a  garden  on  which  the  windows  of  my  apartments  open, 
was  on  fire,  and  that  the  furniture  of  several  rooms  was 
burning.  As,  however,  the  fire  did  not  reach  the  out- 
side walls,  and  as,  during  my  four  years'  residence  in 
IsTaples,  where  all  buildings  are  fireproof,  I  had  never 
heard  of  such  a  thing  as  a  house  burning  down,  I  gave 
myself  little  uneasiness  about  it.  Later  I  learned  that 
the  fire  had  been  subdued ;  and  before  I  went  to  sleep 
the  circumstance  had  ceased  to  occupy  my  mind. 

"  Nevertheless,  I  had  the  following  dream.  I  thought 
I  was  traversing  a  small  town,  in  which  a  house  was  on 
fire.  Thence  I  passed  out  into  the  open  country,  and 
arrived  at  a  point  where  T  had  a  view  over  a  valley 
through  which  a  river  ran ;  and  on  the  banks  of  that 
river  were  several  large  buildings.  Of  these  I  observed 
that  two,  at  some  distance  from  each  other,  wero 
in  flames.  The  sight  instantly  suggested  to  me  the 
idea  that  the  fires  must  be  the  work  of  incendiaries; 


BY    SLIGHT   CAUSES.  141 

Since  (it  was  thus  I  argued  in  ray  sleep)  it  was  not  likely 
thai  three  buildings,  quite  disconnected,  yet  within  a 
eh  on;  distance  of  each  other,  should  be  on  fire  by  mere 
accident  at  the  same  time.  <  Is  it  some  riot  or  revolu- 
tion that  is  commencing?'  was  my  next  thought.  And, 
in  my  dream,  I  heard  several  shots,  as  from  different 
parts  of  the  country,  confirming  (possibly  creating)  my 
idea  of  a  popular  disturbance.  At  this  point  I  awoke, 
and,  ttfter  listening  a  few  moments,  became  aware  that 
some  persons  were  letting  off  fire-crackers  in  the  street, 
— a  common  Neapolitan  amusement." 

The  causes  predisposing  to  such  a  dream  are  evident. 
I  haa  heard,  a  short  time  before  going  to  rest,  of  a  house 
on  firt»;  and  the  idea,  in  a  modified  form,  was  continued 
\n  my  sleep.  I  was  in  a  country  where  one  lives  amid 
daily  rumors  of  a  revolutionary  outbreak  :  hence,  pro- 
bably, the  suggestion  as  to  the  cause  of  the  fires.  This 
received  confirmation  from  the  actual  detonation  of  the 
fire-crackers,  which  my  dreaming  fancy  construed  into 
a  succession  of  musket-shots. 

It  is  to  be  remarked,  however,  that  these  suggestivf- 
circumstances  were  by  no  means  of  a  character  to  make 
much  impression  on  my  waking  thoughts.  I  was  not 
under  the  slightest  apprehension  about  the  fire;  and  I 
had  lived  so  long  amid  daily  reports  of  an  impending 
revolution  that  I  had  ceased  to  ascribe  to  them  any 
credit  or  probability.  The  inference  seems  to  be,  that 
even  feeble  waking  impressions  may  become  incentives 
to  dreams. 

Occasionally  it  has  been  found  that  dreams  may  be 
actually  framed  by  the  suggestions  of  those  who  sur- 
round the  bed  of  the  sleeping  man.  A  remarkable  ex- 
ample in  the  case  of  a  British  officer  is  given  by  Dr. 
Abercrombie,  in  which  "they  could  produce  in  him  any 
kind  of  dream  by  whispering  in  his  ear,  especially  if 
this  was  done  by  a  friend  with  whose  voice  he  was  fa 


142  DREAMS   INTENTIONALLY    SUGGESTED. 

miliar."*  In  this  way  they  conducted  him  through  the 
whole  course  of  a  quarrel,  which  ended  in  a  duel;  and 
finally,  a  pistol  being  placed  in  his  hand,  he  discharged 
it,  and  was  awakened  by  the  report.  Similar  examples 
have  been  elsewhere  noticed,  as  one  of  a  medical  student, 
given  by  Smellie,  in  his  "Natural  History;"  and  another, 
mentioned  by  Dr.  Beattie,  of  a  man  in  whose  case  any 
kind  of  dream  could  be  induced  by  his  friends  gently 
speaking  in  his  presence  on  the  particular  subject  they 
wished  him  to  dream  about. 

The  same  power  seems,  at  times,  to  be  exercised  by  a 
magnetizer  over  one  whom  he  has  been  in  the  habit  of 
magnetizing.  Foissac  relates  of  his  somnambule,  Made- 
moiselle Coeline,  that,  in  her  natural  sleep,  he  could  not 
only  lead  her  on  to  dream  whatever  he  pleased,  but  also 
cause  her  to  remember  the  dream  when  she  awoke  from 
it.f  In  the  case  mentioned  by  Abercrombie,  the  subject 
preserved  no  distinct  recollection  of  what  he  had  dreamed. 

There  is  another  remarkable  phenomenon  connected 
with  the  suggestion  of  dreams,  which  is  well  worth 

*  "Intellectual  Powers,"  pp.  202,  203. 

f  "Rapports  et  Discussions"  Paris,  1833,  p.  438.  In  actual  somnambul- 
ism artificially  induced,  this  power  of  suggestion  is  more  frequent  and 
more  marked.  Dr.  Macario,  in  his  work  on  Sleep,  relates  a  striking  ex- 
ample, as  having  occurred  in  his  presence.  It  was  in  the  case  of  a  certain 
patient  of  a  friend  of  his,  Dr.  Gromier, — a  married  lady,  subject  to  hysteri- 
cal aflFections.  Finding  her  one  day  a  prey  to  settled  melancholy,  he  ima- 
gined the  following  plan  to  dissipate  it.  Having  cast  her  into  a  magnetic 
sleep,  he  said  to  her,  menfally,  "Why  do  you  lose  hope?  You  are  pious:  the 
Holy  Virgin  will  come  to  your  assistance:  be  sure  of  it."  Then  he  called 
up  in  his  mind  a  vision,  in  which  he  pictured  the  ceiling  of  the  chamber 
removed,  groups  of  cherubim  at  the  corners,  and  the  Virgin,  in  a  blaze  of 
glory,  descending  in  the  midst.  Suddenly  the  somnambule  was  affected 
with  ecstasy,  sunk  on  her  knees,  and  exclaimed,  in  a  transport  of  joy,  "Ah, 
my  God!  So  long — so  very  long — I  have  prayed  to  the  Holy  Virgin;  and 
now,  for  the  first  time,  she  comes  to  my  aid  I" 

I  adduce  this  example  in  evidence  how  closely  the  phenomena  of  natural 
sleep  and  artificial  somnambulism  sometimes  approach  each  other.  It  maj 
aSbrd  a  clew,  also,  to  the  true  origin  of  many  ecstatic  visions. 


THE   PAST    RECALLED    IN    DREAM.  143 

Enticing.  It  would  seem  that  as,  in  what  Braid  calls  the 
hypnotic  condition,  there  is  sometirties  an  exaltation  of 
the  intellect  and  of  the  senses,  so  in  dreams  there  is 
occasionally  a  sort  of  refreshening  and  brightening  of 
the  memory.  Brodie  gives  an  example  from  his  own 
experience.  He  says,  "On  one  occasion  I  imagined  1 
was  a  boy  again,  and  that  I  was  repeating  to  another 
boy  a  tale  with  which  I  had  been  familiar  at  that  period 
of  my  life,  though  I  had  never  read  it  nor  thought  of  it 
since.  I  awoke,  and  repeated  it  to  myself  at  the  time, 
as  I  believe,  accurately  enough;  but  on  the  following  day 
I  had  forgotten  it  again."  When,  therefore,  in  sleep 
something  is  recalled  to  us  which  in  our  waking  state 
we  had  forgotten,  we  ought  not,  on  that  account,  to 
conclude  that  there  is  any  thing  more  mysterious  about 
it  than  there  is  in  many  other  familiar,  if  unexplained, 
operations  of  the  mind. 

We  should  be  on  our  guard,  also,  against  another  class 
of  dreams,  sometimes  spiritually  interpreted,  which  lie 
open  to  the  hypothesis  that  they  may  have  been  the 
result  of  earnest  longing  and  expectation  in  the  dreamer. 
Such  a  one  is  given  in  the  biography  of  William  Smel- 
lie,  author  of  the  "Philosophy  of  Natural  History."  In- 
timately acquainted  with  the  Eev.  William  Greenlaw, 
they  had  entered  into  a  solemn  compact,  in  writing, 
signed  with  their  blood,  that  whoever  died  first  should 
return,  if  possible,  and  testify  to  the  survivor  regarding 
the  world  of  spirits;  but  if  the  deceased  did  not  appojir 
within  a  year  after  the  day  of  his  death,  it  was  to  be 
concluded  that  he  could  not  return.  Greenlaw  died  on 
the  26th  of  June,  1774.  As  the  first  anniversary  of  his 
death  approached  and  he  had  made  no  sign,  Smellie 
became  extremely'  anxious,  and  even  lost  rest  during 
several  successive  nights,  in  expectation  of  the  reappear- 
ance of  his  friend.  At  last,  fatigued  with  watching,  and 
having  fellen  asleep  in  his  armchair,  Greenlaw  appeared 


I4i       ARE  ALL  DREAMS  UNTRUSTWORTHY? 

to  him,  stating  that  he  was  now  in  another  and  a  better 
world,  from  which  he  had  found  great  difficulty  in  com- 
municating with  the  friend  he  had  left  behind,  and 
adding,  as  to  that  world,  that  "the  hopes  and  wishes  of 
its  inhabitants  were  by  no  means  satisfied,  for,  like 
those  of  the  lower  world,  they  still  looked  forward  in 
the  hope  of  eventually  reaching  a  still  happier  state  of 
existence."* 

Those  who  believe  that  they  have  sufficient  evidence, 
in  other  examples,  of  the  reality  of  such  revisitings, 
will  probably  conclude,  as  the  biographer  states  Smellie 
himself  to  have  believed  even  to  the  day  of  his  death, 
that  his  friend  Greenlaw  had  actually  appeared  to  him; 
but  it  is  evident  that  a  different  interpretation  may  be 
put  on  the  incident;  for  it  is  clearly  supposable,  in  this 
case,  as  in  that  of  the  war-worn  soldier  in  Campbell's 
ballad,  that  the  longing  of  the  day  may  have  engendered 
the  vision  of  the  night. 

But  while  we  admit,  what  the  facts  abundantly  prove, 
that,  in  a  great  majority  of  instances,  dreams  are,  or 
may  be,  either  the  breaking  forth  in  sleep  of  a  strong 
desire,  or  the  offspring  of  fancy  running  riot  beyond 
the  control  of  the  judgment,  or  else  the  result  of  sugges- 
tion, sometimes  direct  and  intentional,  more  frequently 
proceeding,  apparently  by  accident,  from  antecedent 
thoughts  or  emotions,  there  remain  to  be  dealt  with 
certain  exceptional  cases,  which  do  not  seem  to  be  pro- 
perly included  in  any  of  the  above  categories.  To  judge 
understandingly  of  these,  it  behooves  us  to  examine 
them  somew^hat  in  detail. 

We  may  dispose,  preliminarily,  of  one  class,  as  evi- 
dently susceptible  of  simple  and  natural  explanation; 
those,  namely,  which,  more  or  less  distinctly,  bring  about 
their  own  fulfillment. 

*■  "Memoirs  of  the  Life,  Writings,  and  Correspondence  of  William  Smellie, 
F.R.S  and  F.A.S.,"  by  Robert  Kerr,  F.R.S.,  Edinburgh,  1811,  p.  187. 


THE    locksmith's   APPRENTICE.  145 

Such,  for  example,  is  an  old  story,  mentioned  by  seve- 
ral Italian  authors,  of  a  merchant,  traveling  between 
Eomc  and  Sienna,  who  dreamed  that  he  was  murdered 
on  the  road.  His  host,  to  whom  he  told  his  dream,  ad- 
vised  him  to  pray  and  confess.  He  did  so,  and  was 
afterward  assassinated  on  the  way  by  the  very  priest  to 
whom,  in  confession,  he  had  communicated  the  know- 
ledge of  his  wealth  and  his  apprehensions. 

A  case  of  similar  character,  occurring  a  few  years 
since  near  Hamburg,  was  given  at  the  time  in  the  news- 
papers of  the  day.  The  apprentice  of  a  certain  lock- 
smith of  that  city,  named  Claude  Seller,  one  day  in- 
formed his  master  that  the  night  before  he  had  dreamed 
that  he  had  been  murdered  on  the  road  between  Ham- 
burg and  Bergsdorff.  His  master  laughingly  told  him 
he  had  just  then  a  hundred  and  forty  rix-dollars  to  send 
to  his  brother-in-law  in  Bergsdorff;  and,  to  prove  to  him 
how  ridiculous  it  was  to  believe  in  such  omens,  he  (the 
apprentice)  should  be  the  bearer  of  it.  The  young  man, 
after  vainly  remonstrating,  was  compelled  to  set  out, 
which  he  did,  about  eleven  o'clock  in  the  day.  Arrived 
halfway,  at  the  village  of  Billwaerder,  and  recollecting, 
with  terror,  the  particulars  of  his  dream,  he  called  upon 
the  bailiie  of  the  village,  found  him  engaged  with  some 
workmen,  related  to  him,  in  their  presence,  his  dream, 
mentioned  the  sura  of  money  he  had  with  him,  and 
begged  that  some  one  might  be  allowed  to  accompany 
him  through  a  small  wood  that  lay  in  his  way.  The 
bailiie,  smiling  at  his  fears,  bade  one  of  the  workmen 
go  with  him  as  he  desired.  The  next  day  the  body  of 
the  apprentice  was  found,  his  throat  cut,  and  a  blood}' 
reaping-hook  near  the  body.  It  was  afterward  proved 
that  the  man  who  accompanied  him  had  used  that  very 
reaping-hook  some  time  before,  to  cut  willows.  He  was 
apprehended,  confessed  his  crime,  and  declared   that  it 

.      K     .  13    .  . 


146  THE    LOVE    STORY 

was  the  recital  of  the  dream  which  had  prompted  him 
to  its  commission. 

In  some  cases  the  connection  between  the  influence 
of  the  dream  and  its  fulfillment,  though  we  may  admit 
its  possibility,  is  not  so  clearly  made  out.  A  romantic 
example — perfectly  authenticated,  however — I  here 
translate  from  Macario's  work  on  Sleep. 

HOW  A  PARIS  EDITOR  OBTAINED  A  WIFE. 

In  a  small  town  of  Central  France,  Charite-sur-Loire, 
in  the  Department  of  Nievre,  there  lived  a  young  girl, 
of  humble  rank,  being  the  daughter  of  a  baker,  but  re- 
markable for  her  grace  and  beauty.  There  were  several 
aspirants  for  her  hand,  of  whom  one,  on  account  of  his 
fortune,  was  favored  by  her  parents.  The  girl,  how- 
ever, not  liking  him,  rejected  his  proposals  of  marriage. 
The  parents  insisted;  and  finally  the  daughter,  pressed 
by  their  importunities,  repaired  to  the  church,  pros 
trated  herself  before  the  image  of  the  Virgin,  and  ear 
nestly  prayed  for  counsel  and  guidance  in  the  choice  of 
a  husband. 

The  following  night  she  dreamed  that  there  passed 
before  her  a  young  man,  in  a  traveler's  dress,  with  spec- 
tacles, and  wearing  a  large  straw  hat;  and  a  voice  from 
within  seemed  to  tell  her  that  he  was  to  be  her  hus- 
band. As  soon  as  she  awoke,  she  sought  her  parents, 
told  them,  respectfully,  but  firmly,  that  she  had  posi- 
tively decided  not  to  accept  the  man  of  their  choice ;  and 
from  thenceforward  they  no  longer  pressed  the  matter. 

Some  time  afterward,  at  a  village  ball,  she  recognized 
the  young  traveler,  just  as  he  had  appeared  in  hei 
dream.  She  blushed.  He  was  attracted  by  her  appear- 
ance, fell  in  love,  as  the  phrase  is,  at  first  sight,  and 
after  a  brief  interval  they  were  married.  Her  husband 
19  M*  Emile  de  la  Bedolliere,  one  of  the  editors  of  the 
Va^iB  journal  the  "Sieele;"    and,  in  a  letter  to  JV. 


or   ANOELE    BOBIN.  147 

Macario,  dated  Paris,  13th  December^  1854,  he  certifies 
to  the  accuracy,  in  every  particular,  of  the  above  relation, 
adding  other  details.  He  states  that  it  was  at  a  sub- 
scription ball,  held  in  August,  1833,  at  the  house  of  a 
man  named  Jacquemart,  which  he  visited  in  company 
with  his  friend,  Eugene  Lafaure,  that  he  first  saw  his 
future  wife,  Angele  Bobin;  that  her  emotion  on  seeing 
him  was  apparent,  and  that  he  ascertained  from  the 
lady  at  whose  pension  the  young  girl  then  was.  Made- 
moiselle Porcerat  by  name,  that  she  who  afterward  be- 
came Madame  de  la  Bedolliere  had  given  to  her  teacher, 
long  before  his  own  accidental  appearance  for  the  first 
time  at  La  Charite,  an  accurate  description  of  his  person 
and  dress.* 

In  this  case,  though  the  coincidence  seems  remark- 
able, we  may,  as  to  the  matter  of  personal  resemblance, 
allow  something  to  chance  and  something  to  latitude  of 
imagination  in  an  enthusiastic  young  girl.  For  the 
rest,  the  conscious  blush  of  a  village  beauty  was  suffi- 
cient to  attract  the  attention  and  interest  the  heart  of  a 
young  traveler,  perhaps  of  ardent  and  impressible  tem- 
perament. It  would  be  presumptuous  positively  to 
assert  that  these  considerations  furnish  the  true  expla- 
nation. But  the  possibility  is  to  be  conceded  that  they 
may  do  so. 

So  in  another  case,  the  dream  or  vision  of  Sir  Charles 
Lee's  daughter,  in  which,  however,  it  was  death,  not 
marriage,  that  was  foreshadowed.  Though  it  occurred 
nearly  two  hundred  years  ago,  it  is  very  well  authenti- 
cated, having  been  related  by  Sir  Charles  Lee  himself 
to  the  Bishop  of  Gloucester,  and  by  the  Bishop  of  Glou- 
cester to  Beaumont,  who  published  it,  soon  after  he 


'•  "  Dm  Sommeil,  de*  RSv«t,  «t  du  Somnambuii»me,**  by  Dr.  Maoario,  Ex» 
Xi^puty  of  tbe  Sardiami  ParliAment, -Lyons, 'Xfi57,  pp.  ^,  SI. 


148  THE   DEATH   OF 

heard  it,  in  a  postscript  to  his  well-known  •■  Treatise  of 
Spirits."     Thence  I  transcribe  it. 

THE  BISHOP  OF  GLOUCESTER'S  STORY. 

"  Having  lately  had  the  honor  to  hear  a  relation  of 
an  apparition  from  the  Lord  Bishop  of  Gloucester,  and 
it  being  too  late  for  me  to  insert  it  in  its  proper  place  in 
this  book,  I  give  it  you  here  by  way  of  postscript,  as 
follows : — 

"  Sir  Charles  Lee,  by  his  first  lady,  had  only  one 
daughter,  of  which  she  died  in  childbirth;  and,  when 
she  was  dead,  her  sister,  the  Lady  Everard,  desir'd  to 
have  the  education  of  the  child ;  and  she  was  by 
her  very  well  educated  till  she  was  marriageable; 
and  a  match  was  concluded  for  her  with  Sir  William 
Perkins,  but  was  then  prevented  in  an  extraordinary 
manner.  Upon  a  Thursday  night,  she,  thinking  she  saw 
a  light  in  her  chamber  after  she  was  in  bed,  knock'd  foi 
her  maid,  who  presently  came  to  her;  and  she  asked 
why  she  left  a  candle  burning  in  her  chamber.  The 
maid  said  she  left  none,  and  there  was  none  but  what 
she  brought  with  her  at  that  time.  Then  she  said  it  was 
the  fire;  but  that,  her  maid  told  her,  was  quite  out,  and 
said  she  believed  it  was  only  a  dream  ;  whereupon  she 
said  it  might  be  so,  and  compos'd  herself  again  to  sleep. 
But  about  two  of  the  clock  she  was  awaken'd  again,  and 
saw  the  apparition  of  a  little  woman  between  her  cur- 
tain and  her  pillow,  who  told  her  she  was  her  mother, 
that  she  was  happy,  and  that  by  twelve  o'clock  that 
day  she  should  be  with  her.  Whereupon  she  knock'd 
again  for  her  maid,  called  for  her  clothes,  and,  when  she 
was  dress'd,  went  into  her  closet,  and  came  not  out 
again  till  nine,  and  then  brought  out  with  her  a  letter 
sealed  to  hei  father,  brought  it  to  her  aunt,  the  Lady 
Everard,  told  her  what  had  happen'd,  and  desir'd  that, 
as  soon  as  she  was  dead,  it  might  be  sent  to  him.    But 


SIR   CHARLES    LEE'S   DAUGHTER.  149 

tho  lady  thought  she  was  suddenly  fall'n  mud,  and 
thereupon  sent  presently  away  to  Chelmsford  for  a  phy- 
sician  and  surgeon, who  both  came  immediately;  but  the 
physician  could  discern  no  indication  of  what  the  lady 
imagin'd,  or  of  any  indisposition  of  her  body.  Not- 
withstanding, the  lady  would  needs  have  her  let  blood, 
which  was  done  accordingly.  And  when  the  young 
woman  had  patiently  let  them  do  what  they  would  with 
her,  she  desir'd  that  the  chaplain  might  be  called  to 
read  prayers;  and  when  the  prayers  were  ended  she 
took  her  gittar  and  psalm-book,  and  sate  down  upon  a 
chair  without  arms,  and  play'd  and  sung  so  melodiously 
and  admirably  that  her  musick-master,  who  was  then 
there,  admired  at  it.  And  near  the  stroke  of  twelve  she 
rose,  and  sate  herself  down  in  a  great  chair  with  arms, 
and  presently,  fetching  a  strong  breathing  or  two,  imme- 
diately expired ;  and  was  so  suddenly  cold  as  was  much 
wondered  at  by  the  physician  and  surgeon.  She  dyed 
at  Waltham,  in  Essex,  three  miles  from  Chelmsford; 
and  the  letter  was  sent  to  Sir  Charles,  at  his  house  in 
Warwickshire ;  but  he  was  so  afflicted  with  the  death 
of  his  daughter,  that  he  came  not  till  she  was  buried ; 
but,  when  he  came,  caus'd  her  to  be  taken  up  and  to  be 
buried  by  her  mother  at  Edminton,  as  she  desir'd  in  her 
letter.  This  was  about  the  year  1662  or  1663.  And  that 
relation  the  Lord  Bishop  of  Gloucester  had  from  Sir 
Charles  Lee  himself"* 

In  the  case  here  narrated,  though  it  be  doubtless  an 
extraordinary  and  unusual  thing  for  any  one,  not  re- 
duced by  sickness  to  an  extreme  state  of  nervous  weak- 
ness, to  be  so  overcome  by  imagination  that  a  confident 


*  "An  Historical,  Physiological,  and   Theological  Treatise  of  Spirits,"  bj 
John  Beaumont,  Gent.,  London,  1705,  pp.  398  to  400. 


150  CALPHURNIA. 

expectation  of  death  at  a  particular  hour  should  cause 
it,  even  within  a  few  minutes  after  the  patient  was,  to 
all  appearance,  in  good  health,  yet,  as  such  things  may 
possibly  be,  we  cannot  in  this  case,  any  more  than  in 
the  preceding  example,  absolutely  deny  that  the  dream 
itself  may  have  been  instrumental  in  working  out  its 
fulfillment. 

There  are  many  other  dreams,  however,  as  to  the  ful- 
fillment of  which  no  such  explanation  can  he  given.  One 
of  the  best  known  and  most  celebrated  is  that  of  Cal- 
phurnia,  on  the  night  before  the  Ides  of  March.  We 
read  that  she  almost  succeeded  in  imparting  to  her  hus- 
band the  alarm  which  this  warning  of  his  death  created 
in  herself,  and  that  Caesar  was  finally  confirmed  in  his 
original  intention  to  proceed  to  the  Senate-chamber  by 
the  ridicule  of  one  of  the  conspirators,  who  made  light 
of  the  matron's  fears.* 

Those  fears,  natural  in  one  whose  husband,  through  a 
thousand  perils,  had  reached  so  dangerous  a  height, 
might,  indeed,  have  suggested  the  dream;  and  its  exact 
time  may  possibly  have  been  determined  by  the  predic- 
tion of  that  augur,  Spurina,  who  had  bidden  the  dictator 
•  beware  of  the  Ides'  of  March.  So  that  here  again, 
though  the  dream  had  no  effect  in  working  out  its  fulfill- 
ment, apparent  causes  may  be  imagined  to  account 
for  it. 

A  dream  of  somewhat  similar  character,  occurring  in 
modern  times,  is   cited  in  several  medical  works,  and 


*  Plutarch  tells  us  that  the  arguments  which  Calphurnia  used,  and  the 
urgent  manner  in  which  she  expressed  herself,  moved  and  alarmed  her 
husband,  especially  when  he  called  to  mind  that  he  had  never  before  known 
in  her  any  thing  of  the  weakness  or  superstition  of  her  sex ;  whereas  now 
she  was  affected  in  an  extraordinary  manner,  conjuring  him  not  to  go  to 
the  Senate  that  day.  And,  he  adds,  had  it  not  been  for  the  suggestions  of 
Decius  Brutus  Albinus,  one  of  the  conspirators,  but  a  man  in  whom  Ctesav 
placed  much  confidence,  these  arguments  would  have  prevailed. 


LIFE  SAVED  BY  A  DREAM.  151 

vouched  for,  as  "  entirely  authentic/'  by  Abercrombie.* 
It  is  as  follows : — 


THE  FISHING-PARTY. 

Major  and  Mrs.  Griffith,  of  Edinburgh,  then  residing  in 
the  Castle,  had  received  into  their  house  their  nephew, 
Mr.  Joseph  D'Acre,  of  Kirklinton,  in  the  county  of  Cum- 
berland,— a  young  gentleman  who  had  come  to  the 
Scottish  capital  for  the  purpose  of  attending  college, 
and  had  been  specially  recommended  to  his  relatives' 
care.  One  afternoon  Mr.  D'Acre  communicated  to 
them  his  intention  of  joining  some  of  his  young  com- 
panions on  the  morrow  in  a  fishing-party  to  Inch-Keith ; 
and  to  this  no  objection  was  made.  During  the  ensuing 
night,  however,  Mrs.  Griffith  started  from  a  troubled 
dream,  exclaiming,  in  accents  of  terror,  "  The  boat  is 
sinking!  Oh,  save  them!"  Her  husband  ascribed  it  to 
apprehension  on  her  part ;  but  she  declared  that  she  had 
no  uneasiness  whatever  about  the  fishing-party,  and 
indeed  had  not  thought  about  it.  So  she  again  com- 
posed herself  to  sleep.  When,  however,  a  similar  dream 
was  thrice  repeated  in  the  course  of  the  night,  (the  last 
time  presenting  the  image  of  the  boat  lost  and  the 
whole  party  drowned,)  becoming  at  last  seriously  alarmed, 
she  threw  on  her  wrapping-gown  and,  without  waiting 
for  morning,  proceeded  to  her  nephew's  room.  With 
some  difficulty  she  persuaded  him  to  relinquish  his 
design,  and  to  send  his  servant  to  Leith  with  an  excuse. 
The  morning  was  fine,  and  the  party  embarked;  but 
about  three  o'clock  a  storm  suddenly  arose,  the  boat 
foundered,  and  all  on  board  were  lost.f 

*  "Intellectual  Pou;ers,"lbih  ed..  p.  215.    Abercrombie condeoses  the  storj 
and  omits  the  Dames. 
t  Independently  of  Abercrombie's  voucher,  this   narrative  is  perfectly 


152  SUGGESTIONS. 

Here  it  may  be  alleged,  that,  as  the  aunt,  in  her 
waking  state,  experienced  no  apprehension  for  her 
nephew's  safety,  it  is  not  at  all  likely  that  alarm  on  her 
part  should  have  suggested  the  dream.  I  have  shown, 
however,  from  my  own  experience,  that  dreams  may  be 
suggested  by  incidents  that  have  made  but  trifling  im- 
pression, and  that  had  ceased  to  occupy  the  mind  at  the 
time  of  going  to  sleep.  And,  inasmuch  as  the  risk  at- 
tending sailing-parties  on  the  Firth  of  Forth  to  j'Oung 
people,  careless,  probably,  and  thoughtless  of  danger,  is 
considerable,  the  chances  against  a  fatal  result,  in  any 
particular  case,  cannot  be  regarded  as  so  overwhelmingly 
great  that  we  are  precluded  from  adopting  the  hypo- 
thesis of  an  accidental  coincidence.  Cicero  says,  truly 
enough,  "  What  person  who  aims  at  a  mark  all  day  will 
not  sometimes  hit  it  ?  We  sleep  every  night,  and  there 
are  few  on  which  we  do  not  dream :  can  we  wonder, 
then,  that  what  we  dream  sometimes  comes  to  pass  ?"* 

Yet,  if  such  examples  should  be  found  greatly  mul- 
tiplied, and  particularly  if  details,  as  well  as  the  general 
result,  correspond  accurately  with  the  warning,  the 
probabilities  against  a  chance  coincidence  increase. 

But  it  is  very  certain  that  such  instances  are  much 

\fell  authenticated.  The  late  Mary  Lady  Clerk,  of  Pennicuik,  well  known 
in  Edinburgh  during  a  protracted  widowhood,  was  a  daughter  of  Mr. 
D'Acre;  and  she  herself  communicated  the  story  to  Blackwood's  Magazine, 
(vol.  xix.  p.  73,)  in  a  letter  dated  "Princes  Street,  May  1,  1826,"  and 
commencing  thus  : — *'  Being  in  company  the  other  day  when  the  conversa- 
tion turned  upon  dreams,  I  related  one,  of  which,  as  it  happened  to  my 
own  father,  I  can  answer  for  the  perfect  truth."  She  concludes  thus  : — "  I 
often  heard  the  story  from  my  father,  who  always  added,  *  It  has  not  made 
me  superstitious ;  but  with  awful  gratitude  I  never  can  forget  that  my  life, 
under  Providence,  was  saved  by  a  dream.' — M.  C." 

In  the  Magazine  (of  which  I  have  followed,  but  somewhat  abridged,  the 
version)  the  names  are  initialized  only.  Through  the  kindness  of  an 
Edinburgh  friend,  I  am  enabled  to  fill  them  up  from  a  copy  of  the  anecdote 
in  which  they  were  given  in  full  by  Lady  Clerk  in  her  own  liandwriting. 

♦  **2?«  Divinatione,"  lib.  ii.  |  59. 


siQNOR  Romano's  story.  168 

more  mimorous  throughout  society  than  those  who  have 
given  slight  attention  to  the  subject  imagine.  Men 
usually  relate  with  reluctance  that  which  exposes  them 
to  the  imputation  of  credulity.  It  is  to  an  intimate 
friend  only,  or  to  one  known  to  be  seriously  examining 
the  question,  that  such  confidences  are  commonly  made. 
In  the  three  or  four  years  last  past,  during  which  I  have 
taken  an  interest  in  this  and  kindred  subjects,  there 
have  been  communicated  to  me  so  many  examples  of 
dreams  containing  true  warnings,  or  otherwise  strangely 
fulfilled,  that  I  have  become  convinced  there  is  a  very 
considerable  proportion  of  all  the  persons  we  meet  in 
our  intercourse  with  the  world,  who  could  relate  to  us, 
if  they  would,  one  or  more  such,  as  having  occurred 
either  in  their  own  families  or  to  someof  their  acquaint- 
ances. I  feel  assured  that  among  those  who  may  read 
this  book  there  will  be  few  who  could  not  supply  evi- 
dence in  support  of  the  opinion  here  expressed. 

I  proceed  to  furnish,  from  among  the  narratives  of 
this  character  which  have  thus  recently  come  to  my 
knowledge,  a  few  specimens,  for  the  authenticity  of 
which  I  can  vouch. 

In  the  year  1818,  Signor  Alessandro  Eomano,  the 
head  of  an  old  and  highly-respected  Neapolitan  family, 
was  at  Patu,  in  the  province  of  Terra  d'Otranto,  in  the 
kingdom  of  Naples.  He  dreamed  one  night  that  the 
wife  of  the  Cavaliere  Libetta,  Counselor  of  the  Supreme 
Court,  and  his  friend  and  legal  adviser,  who  was  then  in 
the  city  of  Naples,  was  dead.  Although  Signor  Eomano 
had  not  heard  of  the  Signora  Libetta  being  ill,  or  even 
indisposed,  yet  the  extreme  vividness  of  the  dream  pro- 
duced a  great  impression  on  his  mind  and  spirits;  and 
the  next  morning  he  repeated  it  to  his  family,  adding 
that  it  had  disturbed  him  greatly,  not  only  on  account 
of  his  friendship  for  the  family,  but  also  because  the 
Cavaliere  had  then  in  charge  for  him  a  lawsuit  of  im- 


164  DREAM   INDICATING 

portance,  which  he  feared  this  domestic  affliction  might 
cause  h>m  to  neglect. 

Patu  is  two  hundred  and  eighty  miles  from  Naples; 
and  it  was  several  days  before  any  confirmation  or  refu- 
tation of  Signor  Eomano's  fears  could  be  obtained.  At 
last  he  received  a  letter  from  the  Cavaliere  Libetta,  in- 
forming him  that  he  had  lost  his  wife  by  death ;  and,  on 
comparing  dates,  it  was  found  that  she  died  on  the  very 
night  of  Signor  Eomano's  dream. 

This  fact  was  communicated  to  me  by  my  friend  Don 
Giuseppe  Eomano,*  son  of  the  gentleman  above  referred 
to,  who  was  living  in  his  father's  house  when  the  inci- 
dent took  place,  and  heard  him  relate  his  dream  the 
morning  after  it  occurred. 

Here  is  another,  which  was  narrated  to  me,  I  re- 
member, while  walking,  one  beautiful  day  in  June,  in 
the  Villa  Eeale,  (the  fashionable  park  of  Naples,  having 
a  magnificent  view  over  the  bay,)  by  a  member  of  the 
A legation,  one  of  the  most  intelligent  and  agree- 
able acquaintances  I  made  in  that  city. 

On  the  16th  of  October,  1850,  being  then  in  the  city 
of  Naples,  this  gentleman  dreamed  that  he  was  by  the 
bedside  of  his  father,  who  appeared  to  be  in  the  agonies 
of  death,  and  that  after  a  time  he  saw  him  expire. 
He  awoke  in  a  state  of  great  excitement,  bathed  in  cold 
perspiration ;  and  the  impression  on  his  mind  was  so 
strong  that  he  immediately  rose,  though  it  was  still 
night,  dressed  himself,  and  wrote  to  his  father,  inquiring 
after  %ts  health.  His  father  was  then  at  Trieste,  dis- 
tant from  Naples,  by  the  nearest  route,  five  days'  jour- 
ney; and  the  son  had  no  cause  whatever,  except 
the  above  dream,  to  be  uneasy  about  him,  seeing  that 

*  On  the  25th  of  April,  1858,  at  his  villa,  near  Naples.  I  took  notes 
of  the  occurrence  at  the.  time,  which  ■were  then  and  th^re  examined  bod 
ecrrected  by  the  narrator. 


A    DISTANT   DEATH.  155 

his  age  did  not  exceed  fifty,  and  that  no  intelligence  of 
his  illness,  or  even  indisposition,  had  been  received.  He 
waited  for  a  reply  with  some  anxiety  for  three  weeks, 
at  the  end  of  which  time  came  an  oflBcial  communica- 
tion to  the  chef  of  the  mission,  requesting  him  to  inform 
the  son  that  it  behooved  bim  to  take  some  legal  measures 
in  regard  to  the  property  of  his  father,  who  had  died 
at  Trieste,  after  a  brief  illness,  on  the  sixteenth  of  October. 

It  will  be  observed  that  in  this  instance  the  agitation 
of  mind  in  the  dreamer  was  much  greater  than  com- 
monly occurs  in  the  case  of  an  ordinary  dream.  The 
gentleman  rose,  dressed  himself  in  the  middle  of  the 
night,  and  immediately  wrote  to  his  father,  so  great  was 
his  anxiety  in  regard  to  that  parent's  fate.  The  same 
may  usually  be  noticed  in  the  record  of  cases  in  which 
the  dream  is  fulfilled,  even  if  the  person  to  whom  it 
occurs  is  a  skeptic  in  all  such  presentiments. 

Such  a  skeptic  is  Macnish,  author  of  the  "  Philosophy 
of  Sleep;"*  yet  he  admits  the  effect  which  such  a  dream, 
occurring  to  himself  in  the  month  of  August,  1821,  pro- 
duced upon  his  spirits.  1  quote  the  narrative  in  his  own 
words : — 

*'I  was  then  in  Caithness,  when  I  dreamed  that  a 
near  relation  of  my  own,  residing  three  hundred  miles 
off,  had  suddenly  died ;  and  immediately  thereafter  awoke 
in  a  state  of  inconceivable  terror,  similar  to  that  pro- 
duced by  a  paroxysm  of  nightmare.  The  same  day, 
happening  to  be  writing  home,  I  mentioned  the  circum- 
stance in  a  half-jesting,  half-earnest  way.  To ^11  the 
truth,  1  was  afraid  to  be  serious,  lest  I  should  be  laughed 

*  Speaking  of  the  hypothesis  that  dreams  may  at  times  give  us  an  in- 
sight into  futurity,  Macnish  says,  "  This  opinion  is  so  singularly  unphilo- 
sophical  that  I  would  not  have  noticed  ii,  were  it  not  advocated  by  persoM 
of  good  sense  and  education." — Philotnphy  of  Sleep,  p.  129. 

But,  after  all,  it  avails  nothing  to  allege  that  an  opinion  is  unphilosophiM) 
if  it  should  happen  that  fact«  attest  \\9  truth. 


(56  MACNISH^S    DREAM. 

at  for  putting  any  faith  in  dreams.  However,  in  the 
interval  between  writing  and  receiving  an  answer  I 
remained  in  a  state  of  most  unpleasant  suspense.  I  felt 
a  presentiment  that  something  dreadful  had  happened 
or  would  happen;  and,  though  I  could  not  help  blaming 
myself  for  a  childish  weakness  in  so  feeling,  I  was  un- 
able to  get  rid  of  the  painful  idea  which  had  taken  such 
rooted  possession  of  my  mind.  Three  days  after  sending 
away  the  letter,  what  was  my  astonishment  when  I  re- 
ceived one  written  the  day  subsequent  to  mine,  and 
stating  that  the  relative  of  whom  I  had  dreamed  had 
been  struck  with  a  fatal  shock  of  palsy  the  day  before, — 
that  is,  the  very  day  on  the  morning  of  which  I  had 
beheld  the  appearance  in  my  dream !  1  may  state  that 
my  relative  was  in  perfect  health  before  the  fatal  event 
took  place.  It  came  upon  him  like  a  thunderbolt,  at  a 
period  when  no  one  could  have  the  slightest  anticipation 
of  danger."* 

Here  is  a  witness  disinterested  beyond  all  possible 
doubt  J  for  he  is  supplying  evidence  against  his  own 
opinions.  But  are  the  effects  he  narrates  such  as  are 
usually  produced  by  a  mere  dream  on  the  mind  of  a 
person  not  infected  with  superstition?  Inconceivable 
terror,  though  there  was  no  nightmare;  a  presentiment 
lasting  for  days,  taking  rooted  possession  of  the  feelings, 
and  which  he  strove  in  vain  to  shake  off,  that  something 
dreadful  had  happened  or  would  happen !  Yet,  with  all 
this  alarm,  unnatural  under  ordinary  circumstances, 
how  does  the  narrator  regard  the  case?  He  sets  down 
his  terrors  as  a  childish  weakness,  and  declares,  as  to 
the  coincidence  which  so  excited  his  astonishment,  that 
there  is  nothing  in  it  to  justify  us  in  referring  it  to  any 
other  origin  than  chance.  Taking  the  case  as  an  iso- 
lated one,  it  would  be  illogical  positively  to  deny  this; 

*  **  PhUoBophy  of  Sleep,"  6th  ed.,  pp.  134-186 


A    SHIPWRECK    FORESHADOWED.  15** 

yet  may  we  not  fairly  include  Dr.  Macnish  in  the  cate- 
gory of  those  to  whom  Dr.  Johnson  alludes  when,  speak 
ing  of  the  reality  of  ultramundane  agency,  he  says  that 
"some  who  deny  it  with  their  tongues  confess  it  with 
their  fears"? 

The  next  example  I  shall  cite  came,  in  part,  within 
my  own  personal  knowledge.  A  colleague  of  the  diplo- 
matic corps,  and  intimate  friend  of  mine,  M.  de  S , 

had  engaged  for  himself  and  his  lady  passage  for  South 
America  in  a  steamer,  to  sail  on  the  9th  of  May,  1856. 
A  few  days  after  their  passage  was  taken,  a  friend  of 
theirs  and  mine  had  a  dream  which  caused  her  serious 
uneasiness.  She  saw,  in  her  sleep,  a  ship  in  a  violent 
storm  founder  at  sea;  and  an  internal  intimation  mado 
her  aware  that  it  was  the  same  on  board  which  the 
S s  proposed  to  embark.  So  lively  was  the  impres- 
sion that,  on  awaking,  she  could  scarcely  persuade  her- 
self the  vision  was  not  reality.  Dropping  again  to  sleep, 
the  same  dream  recurred  a  second  time.  This  increased 
her  anxiety;  and  the  next  day  she  asked  my  advice  as 
to  whether  she  ought  not  to  state  the  circumstances  to 
her  friends.  Having,  at  that  time,  no  faith  whatever 
in  such  intimations,  I  recommended  her  not  to  do  so, 
since  it  would  not  probably  cause  them  to  change  their 
plans,  yet  might  make  them  uncomfortable  to  no  pur- 
pose. So  she  suffered  them  to  depart  unadvised  of  the 
fact.  It  so  happened,  however,  as  I  learned  a  few  weeks 
later,  that  fortuitous  circumstances  induced  my  friends 
to  alter  their  first  intention,  and,  having  given  up  their 
places,  to  take  passage  in  another  vessel. 

These  particulars  had  nearly  passed  from  my 
memory,  when,  long  afterward,  being  at  the  Kussian 
Minister's,  his  lady  said  to  me,  "How  fortunate  that 

our  friends  the  S s  did  not   go  in  the  vessel  they 

had  first  selected!"  "Why  so?"  I  asked.  "HavQ  you 
not  heard,"  she  replied,  "that  that  vessel  is  lost?     It 


158  DREAMS    INVOLVING 

must  have  perished  at  sea;  for,  though  more  than  six 
months  have  elapsed  since  it  left  port,  it  has  never  been 
heard  of" 

In  this  case,  it  will  be  remarked,  the  dream  was  com- 
municated to  myself  some  weeks  or  months  before  its 
warning  was  fulfilled.  It  is  to  be  conceded,  however, 
that  the  chances  against  its  fulfillment  were  not  so  great 
as  in  some  of  the  preceding  examples.  The  chances 
against  a  vessel  about  to  cross  the  Atlantic  being  lost 
on  that  particular  voyage,  are  much  less  than  are  the 
chances  against  a  man,  say  of  middle  age  and  in  good 
health,  dying  on  any  one  particular  day. 

In  the  next  example  we  shall  find  a  new  element  intro- 
duced.    Mrs.  S- related   to   me,    that,   residing  in 

Eome  in  June,  1856,  she  dreamed,  on  the  30th  of  that 
month,  that  her  mother,  who  had  been  several  years 
dead,  appeared  to  her,  gave  her  a  lock  of  hair,  and  said, 
"  Be  especially  careful  of  this  lock  of  hair,  my  child,  for 
it  is  your  father's;  and  the  angels  will  call  him  away 
from  you  to-morrow.'^  The  effect  of  this  dream  on  Mrs. 
S 's  spirits  was  such  that,  when  she  awoke,  she  ex- 
perienced the  greatest  alarm,  and  caused  a  telegraphic 
notice  to  be  instantly  dispatched  to  England,  where  her 
father  was,  to  inquire  after  his  health.  No  immediate 
reply  was  received;  but,  when  it  did  come,  it  was  to 
the  effect  that  her  father  had  died  that  morning  at  nine 
o'clock.  She  afterward  learned  that,  two  days  before 
his  death,  he  had  caused  to  be  cut  off  a  lock  of  his  hair, 
and  handed  it  to  one  of  his  daughters,  who  was  attend- 
ing on  him,  telling  her  it  was  for  her  sister  in  Eome. 
He  had  been  ill  of  a  chronic  disease;  but  the  last  ac- 
counts she  received  of  his  health  had  been  favorable, 
and  had  given  reason  to  hope  that  he  might  yet  survive 
for  some  years.* 

*  Read  over  to  Mrs.  S on  the  2.')th  of  April,  1858,  and  its  accuracy 

Assented  to  by  her. 


A    DOUBLE   COINCIDENCE.  160 

The  peculiarity  in  this  example  is,  that  there  is  a 
double  coincidence:  first,  as  to  the  exact  day  of  death; 
and,  secondly,  as  to  the  lock  of  hair.  The  chances 
against  that  double  event  are  very  much  greater  than 
against  a  single  occurrence  only. 

Abercrombie  relates  and  vouches  for  the  following,  in 
which,  in  a  similar  manner,  a  double  event  was  truly  fore- 
shadowed. 

A  clergyman,  who  had  come  to  Edinburgh  from  a 
short  distance,  being  asleep  at  an  inn,  dreamed  of  seeing 
a  fire,  and  one  of  his  children  in  the  midst  of  it.  He 
awoke  with  the  impression,  and  instantly  started  out  on 
his  journey  home.  Arrived  within  sight  of  his  house, 
he  found  it  in  flames,  and  reached  it  just  in  time  to 
rescue  one  of  his  children,  who  in  the  confusion  had 
been  left  in  a  situation  of  great  danger.* 

On  this  Abercrombie  remarks,  that,  '^without  calling 
in  question  the  possibility  of  supernatural  communica- 
tion in  such  cases,"  he  thinks  the  incident  may  be  ex- 
plained on  natural  principles;  as  originating,  namely, 
in  paternal  anxiet}^,  coupled,  perhaps,  with  experience 
of  carelessness  in  the  servants  left  in  charge.  We  may 
admit  this;  but  it  is  evident  that  the  fortuitous  fulfill- 
ment of  the  two  incidents  witnessed  in  the  dream  (the 
fire  itself,  and  the  special  danger  therefrom  to  one  of  his 
children)  is  a  contingency  much  more  unlikely  than 
would  have  been  a  single  coincidence. 

There  may,  on  the  other  hand,  be  peculiar  circum- 
stances which  increase,  in  particular  instances,  the 
chances  in  favor  of  fortuitous  fulfillment.  One  such  is 
given  by  Macnish,  which,  he  says,  may  be  confidently 
relied  upon.  It  is  the  case  of  a  young  lady,  a  native  of 
Ross-shire  in  Scotland,  who  was  devotedly  attached 
U)    an    officer,    then    with    Sir    John    Moore    in    the 


•  "Intellectual  Pou>«r$,"  p  213. 


160  MISLEADING   INFLUENCE 

Spanish  war.  The  constant  danger  to  which  he  was 
exposed  preyed  on  her  spirits.  She  pined,  and  fell  into 
ill  health.  Finally,  one  night,  in  a  dream,  she  saw  her 
lover,  pale,  bloody,  and  wounded  in  the  breast,  enter 
her  apartment.  He  drew  aside  the  curtains  of  the  bed, 
and,  with  a  mild  look,  told  her  he  had  been  slain  in 
battle,  bidding  her,  at  the  same  time,  to  be  comforted, 
and  not  take  his  death  to  heart.  The  consequences  of 
this  dream  were  fatal  to  the  poor  girl,  who  died  a  few 
days  afterward,  desiring  her  parents  to  note  down  the 
date  of  her  dream,  which  she  was  confident  would  be 
confirmed.  It  was  so.  The  news  shortly  after  reached 
England  that  the  officer  had  fallen  at  the  battle  of 
Corunna,  on  the  very  day  on  the  night  of  which  his 
mistress  had  beheld  the  vision.* 

Dr.  Macnish  considers  this  "one  of  the  most  striking 
examples  of  identity  between  the  dream  and  the  real  cir- 
cumstances with  which  he  is  acquainted.*'  Such  an  opinion 
is  a  proof  how  little  exact  men  sometimes  are  in  testing  the 
character  of  phenomena  like  this.  In  itself,  and  without 
reference  to  numerous  other  analogous  cases  in  which  the 
dead  are  said  to  have  appeared  to  some  dear  friend  soon 
after  the  moment  of  decease,  this  incident  is  far  less 
striking  than  Dr.  Macnish's  own  dream,  given  in  a  pre- 
vious part  of  this  chapter.  Let  us  compare  the  cases.  In 
the  one,  the  young  lady's  constant  thought  was  of  her 
lover  placed  in  continual  daily  peril.  What  so  natural  as 
that  she  should  dream  of  him?  The  wonder  would  have 
been,  if  she  had  not.  That  he  should  appear  to  her 
pale  and  wounded,  was  but  a  reflection  of  the  picture 
which  in  her  sad  daily  reveries  had  doubtless  a  hundred 
times  suggested  itself  The  coincidence  as  to  the  day 
remains.  But  it  is  to  be  remembered  that  the  incident 
occurred  during  one  of  the  most  disastrous  episodes  of  the 

*  "  Philosophy  of  Sleep,"  pp.  132  to  134. 


OP    A    ROMANTIC    INCIDENT.  161 

Peninsular  War,  when  each  hour  wa8  expected  to  bring 
news  of  a  bloody  battle.  It  was  at  a  time  when  every 
officer  and  soldier  under  the  gallant  and  unfortunate 
Moore's  command  might  be  said  to  go  forth  each  morning 
with  his  life  in  his  hand.  The  chances  of  death  to  any 
one  of  these  officers  on  any  one  particular  day  were 
perhaps  twenty,  thirty,  fifty  fold  greater  than  to  an  indi- 
vidual engaged  in  the  ordinary  pursuits  of  peaceful  life. 
The  chances  against  the  fortuitous  coincidence  as  to  the 
day  were  diminished  in  a  corresponding  ratio. 

How  different  the  circumstances  in  Dr.  Macnish's 
own  case !  His  relative,  as  he  informs  us,  was  in  per- 
fect health  and  at  three  hundred  miles'  distance.  There 
does  not  appear  to  have  been  any  thing  to  direct  the 
doctor's  thoughts  specially  to  him, — certainly  nothing  to 
make  him  anxious  as  to  his  fate;  nothing,  therefore,  to  in- 
duce a  dream  about  him,  still  less  to  suggest  a  vision  of 
his  death.  Yet,  under  all  these  improbabilities,  Macnish 
dreams  that  his  relative  is  dead.  Nor  is  this  all.  With- 
out apparent  cause  except  what  he  regards  as  a  feeling 
of  childish  superstition,  there  clings  to  him  a  panic  terror, 
a  presentiment  of  evil  so  deep-rooted  that  for  ds^ys  his 
reason  is  powerless  to  eradicate  it.  Then  follows  the 
coincidence  of  the  day,  also  under  circumstances  in 
which,  according  to  every  human  calculation,  the  im- 
probability of  the  event  was  extreme ;  seeing  that  there 
were  no  grounds  for  the  slightest  anticipation  of  danger. 

Yet,  such  is  the  power  of  romantic  incident  on  the 
imagination,  our  author  passes  lightly  over  his  own 
most  remarkable  case,  and  declares,  as  to  that  of  the 
young  lovers,  that  it  is  one  of  the  most  striking  on 
record.  The  managers  of  any  insurance-company 
would  be  found  more  clear-sighted.  Suppose  they  had 
been  asked  to  insure,  for  a  month  or  two,  the  two  lives ; 
that  of  the  officer  daily  exposed  to  shot  or  shell,  and 
that  of  the  country  gentleman  in  a  quiet  home.     Tho 


162  ALDERMAN   CLAY's    DREAM. 

vastly-increased  premium  which  they  would  be  certain 
to  demand  in  the  former  case  as  compared  to  the  latter 
would  sufficiently  mark  their  estimate  of  the  compara- 
tive chances  of  death. 

Such  considerations  should  be  borne  in  mind  in  judging 
all  cases  of  dreams  fulfilled,  when  the  fulfillment  happens 
to  depend  upon  an  event  which,  though  usually  un- 
likely, may,  from  peculiar  circumstances  of  danger  or 
otherwise,  have  been  brought  within  the  range  of  pro- 
bability. An  instance  is  supplied  by  a  curious  custom 
still  prevalent  at  Newark-upon-Trent,  in  England,  on 
the  11th  of  March  of  every  year.  On  that  day  penny 
loaves  are  given  away  to  any  poor  persons  who  apply 
for  them  at  the  Town  Hall.  The  origin  of  the  custom 
is  this.  During  the  bombardment  of  Newark  by  Oliver 
Cromwell's  forces,  a  certain  Alderman  Clay  dreamed, 
three  nights  successively,  that  his  house  had  taken  fire; 
and  so  much  was  he  impressed  thereby  that  he  removed 
his  family  to  another  residence.  A  few  days  afterward, 
on  the  11th  of  March,  his  house  was  burned  down  by 
the  besiegers.  In  gratitude  for  what  he  regarded  as  a 
miraculous  deliverance,  he  left  by  his  will,  dated  11th  De- 
cember, 1694,  to  the  Mayor  and  Aldermen,  two  hundred 
pounds;  the  interest  of  half  that  sum  to  be  paid  to  the 
vicar  annually,  on  condition  of  his  preaching  an  appro- 
priate sermon,  and  with  the  interest  of  the  other  half 
bread  to  be  yearly  purchased  for  distribution  to  the 
poor. 

Here  the  coincidence  was  remarkable,  but  certainly 
less  so  than  if  the  alderman's  house,  through  the  casual- 
ties incident  to  a  siege,  had  not  been  placed  under  cir- 
cumstances of  extra  risk. 

Let  us  pass  on  to  another  class  of  dreams,  usually  re- 
garded as  depending  on  the  revival  of  old  associations 
One  of  the  most  remarkable  examples  is  given  by  Aber 


A  GLASGOW  teller's  DREAM  IQS 

crombie,  who  states  that  it  occurred  to  a  particnlai 
friend  of  his,  and  that  it  "  may  be  relied  upon  in  its 
most  minute  particulars."     It  is  in  these  words: — 

"  The  gentleman  was  at  the  time  connected  with  ono 
of  the  principal  banks  in  Glasgow,  and  was  at  his  place 
at  the  teller's  table  where  money  is  paid,  when  a  person 
entered,  demanding  payment  of  a  sum  of  six  pounds. 

"  There  were  several  persons  waiting,  who  were  in  turn 
entitled  to  be  served  before  him;  but  he  was  extremely  im- 
patient and  rather  noisy,  and,  being  besides  a  remarkable 
stammerer,  he  became  so  annoying  that  another  gentle- 
man requested  mj''  friend  to  pay  him  his  money  and  get 
rid  of  him.  He  did  so,  accordingly,  but  with  an  ex- 
pression of  impatience  at  being  obliged  to  attend  to  him 
before  his  turn ;  and  he  thought  no  more  of  the  trans- 
action. At  the  end  of  the  year,  which  was  eight  or 
nine  months  after,  the  books  of  the  bank  could  not  be 
made  to  balance,  the  deficiency  being  exactly  six  pounds. 
Several  days  and  nights  had  been  spent  in  endeavoring 
to  discover  the  error,  but  without  success;  when,  at 
last,  my  friend  returned  home  much  fatigued,  and  went 
to  bed.  He  dreamed  of  being  at  his  place  in  the  bank, 
and  the  whole  transaction  with  the  stammerer,  as  now 
detailed,  passed  before  him,  in  all  its  particulars.  He 
awoke  under  a  full  impression  that  the  dream  was  to 
lead  him  to  the  discovery  of  what  he  was  so  anxiously 
in  search  of;  and,  on  investigation,  he  soon  discovered 
that  the  sum  paid  to  this  person,  in  the  manner  now 
mentioned,  had  been  neglected  to  be  inserted  in  the 
book  of  interests,  and  that  it  exactly  accounted  for  the 
error  in  the  balance."* 

Commenting  on  this  case,  Abercrombie  says,  "  The  fact 
upon  which  the  importance  of  the  case  rested  was  not 
his  having  paid  the  money,  but  having  neglected  to  insert 


''  Intellectual  Potrera,"  p.  205. 


164  DIFFICULTIES    SUGGESTED. 

the  payment,  ^ow,  of  this  there  was  no  impression  made 
upon  his  mind  at  the  time,  and  we  can  scarcely  conceive 
upon  what  principle  it  could  be  recalled.  The  deficiency 
being  six  pounds,  we  may  indeed  suppose  the  gentleman 
endeavoring  to  recollect  whether  there  could  have  been 
a  payment  of  this  sum  made  in  any  irregular  manner, 
that  might  have  led  to  an  omission  or  an  error;  but  in 
the  transactions  of  an  extensive  bank,  in  a  great  com- 
mercial city,  a  payment  of  six  pounds,  at  a  distance  of 
eight  or  nine  months,  could  have  made  but  a  very  faint 
impression.  And,  upon  the  whole,  the  case  presents, 
perhaps,  one  of  the  most  remarkable  mental  phenomena 
connected  with  this  curious  subject." 

The  difficulty  in  the  above  case  is,  not  that  something 
was  recalled  which,  in  the  waking  state,  had  passed 
from  the  memory;  for  this,  as  in  the  example  already 
cited  from  Brodie,  is  a  phenomenon  known  to  show 
itself,  occasionally,  in  dreams :  the  true  difficulty  is  that 
the  fact  of  which  the  teller  was  in  search,  namely,  the 
omission  to  enter  a  sum  of  six  pounds,  was  not  recalled 
by  the  dream  at  all.  The  dream,,  indeed,  did  recall  and 
present  again  to  his  memory,  in  all  its  details,  a  certain  for- 
gotten circumstance,  namely,  that  he  had  made  a  pay- 
ment eight  or  nine  months  before,  in  a  somewhat  ir- 
regular manner,  to  a  certain  troublesome  stammerer; 
and  the  impression  was  produced  on  his  mind  "that  the 
dream  was  to  lead  him  to  the  discovery  of  what  he  was  so 
anxiously  in  search  of;"  nothing  more.  It  was  only  a  hint 
given ;  a  mere  suggestion,  as  if  some  one  had  said,  "See 
if  that  affair  of  the  stammerer  be  not  in  some  way  con- 
nected with  the  error  that  has  so  long  escaped  you.'' 
And  we  are  expressly  told  that  it  was  only  on  investigation 
the  teller  discovered  that  the  payment  to  the  annoying 
customer  was  the  one  actually  omitted.  If  this  be  not  an 
example  of  a  suggestion  made  from  some  foreign  source, 
instead  of  being  a  mere   instance  of  old   associaUons 


THE   ARREARS   OP   TEIND.  166 

revived,  it   has,  at  least,  very  much   the   appearance 
of  it. 

Other  examples,  apparently  more  extraordinary  an.i 
more  closely  trenching  on  what  is  usually  deemed  thu 
supernatural,  are  more  susceptible  of  natural  explanation. 
For  instance,  a  story  related  by  Sir  Walter  Scott,*  as 
follows : — 

THE  ARREARS  OF  TEIND. 

"  Mr.  Rutherford  of  Bowland,f  a  gentleman  of  landed 
property  in  the  Yale  of  Gala,  was  prosecuted  for  a  very 
considerable  sum,  the  accumulated  arrears  of  teind,  (or 
tithe,)  for  which  he  was  said  to  be  indebted  to  a  noble 
family,  the  titulars  (lay  impropriators  of  the  tithes). 
Mr.  Eutherford  was  strongly  impressed  with  the  belief 
that  his  father  had,  by  a  form  of  process  peculiar  to  the 
law  of  Scotland,  purchased  these  teinds  from  the  titular, 
and,  therefore,  that  the  present  prosecution  was  ground- 
less. But,  after  an  industrious  search  among  his  father's 
papers,  an  investigation  among  the  public  records,  and 
a  careful  inquiry  among  all  persons  who  had  transacted 
law  business  for  his  father,  no  evidence  could  be  re- 
covered to  support  his  defense.  The  period  was  now 
near  at  hand  when  he  conceived  the  loss  of  his  lawsuit 
to  be  inevitable;  and  he  had  formed  the  determination 
to  ride  to  Edinburgh  next  day  and  make  the  best  bar- 
gain he  could  in  the  way  of  compromise.  He  went  to 
bod  with  this  resolution,  and,  with  all  the  circumstances 
of  the  case  floating  upon  his  mind,  had  a  dream  to  the 
following  purpose.  His  father,  who  had  been  many 
years  dead,  appeared  to  him,  he  thought,  and  asked  him 

*  In  that  edition  of  the  Waverley  Novels  to  which  Sir  Walter  himself 
fUDplied  notes.     It  is  given  in  a  note  to  the  "  Antiquary,"  in  Volume  V. 

T   Sir  Walter  gives  the  initial  and  final  letters  only  of  the  name,  (Mr. 

E- d.)     I  am  indebted  for  the  filling  up,  and  for  many  other  obligations, 

to  an  Edioborgh  friend,  whom  I  wish  that  I  might  here  thank  bj  name. 


166  STORY   VOUCHED    FOR 

why  he  was  disturbed  in  his  mind.  In  dreams  men  are 
not  surprised  at  such  apparitions.  Mr.  Ruthcxlbrd  thought 
that  he  informed  his  father  of  the  cause  of  his  distress, 
adding  that  the  payment  of  a  considerable  sum  of  money 
was  the  more  unpleasant  to  him  because  he  had  a  strong 
consciousness  that  it  was  not  due,  though  he  was  unable 
to  recover  any  evidence  in  support  of  his  belief  'You 
are  right,  my  son,'  replied  the  paternal  shade :  '  I  did 
acquire  right  to  these  teinds,  for  payment  of  which  you 
are  now  prosecuted.  The  papers  relating  to  the  trans- 
action are  in  the  hands  of  Mr. ,  a  writer,  (or  attor- 
ney,) who  is  now  retired  from  professional  business  and 
resides  at  Inveresk,  near  Edinburgh.  He  was  a  person 
whom  I  employed  on  that  occasion  for  a  particular 
reason,  but  who  never,  on  any  other  occasion,  transacted 
business  on  my  account.     It  is  very  possible,'  pursued 

the  vision,  *  that  Mr. may  have  forgotten  a  matter 

which  is  now  of  a  very  old  date ;  but  you  may  call  it  to 
his  recollection  by  this  token,  that,  when  I  came  to  pay 
his  account,  there  was  difficulty  in  getting  change  for  a 
Portugal  piece  of  gold,  and  we  were  forced  to  drink  out 
the  balance  at  a  tavern.' 

"  Mr.  Eutherford  awoke,  in  the  morning,  with  all  the 
words  of  the  vision  imprinted  on  his  mind,  and  thought 
it  worth  while  to  walk  across  the  country  to  Inveresk, 
instead  of  going  straight  to  Edinburgh.  When  he  came 
there,  he  waited  on  the  gentleman  mentioned  in  the 
dream, — a  very  old  man.  Without  saying  any  thing  of 
the  vision,  he  inquired  whether  he  ever  remembered 
having  conducted  such  a  matter  for  his  deceased  father 
The  old  gentleman  could  not,  at  first,  bring  the  circum 
stance  to  his  recollection ;  but,  on  mention  of  the  Portu 
gal  piece  of  gold,  the  whole  returned  upon  his  memory 
He  made  an  immediate  search  for  the  papers,  and  re 
covered  themj  so  that  Mr.  Eutherford  carried  to  Ed'n 


BY    81 H    WALTER    SCOTT.  167 

burgu  the  documents  necessary  to  gain  the  cause  which 
he  was  on  the  verge  of  losing." 

Sir  Walter  adds,  as  to  the  authenticity  of  the  above 
narration,  "  The  author  has  often  heard  this  story  told 
by  persons  who  had  the  best  access  to  know  the  facts, 
who  were  not  likely  themselves  to  be  deceived,  and  who 
were  certainly  incapable  of  deception.  He  cannot,  there- 
fore, refuse  to  give  it  credit,  however  extraordinary  the 
circumstances  may  appear." 

The  hypothetical  explanation  which  Scott  offers  is, 
"  that  the  dream  was  only  the  recapitulation  of  inform- 
ation which  Mr.  Rutherford  had  really  received  from  his 
father  while  in  life,  but  which,  at  first,  he  merely  recalled 
as  a  general  impression  that  the  claim  was  settled." 

The  possibility  that  this  may  be  the  true  theory  cannoc 
be  denied ;  and  it  is  easier  to  imagine  it  in  this  casd 
than  in  that  of  the  bank-teller.  Yet  serious  difficulties 
present  themselves  in  opposition.  We  cannot  assign  to 
these  their  exact  weight,  because,  as  unfortunately  too 
often  happens  in  such  narrations,  some  of  the  essential 
particulars  are  omitted.  We  do  not  know  how  old  Mr. 
Kutherford  was  at  the  time  of  the  purchase  of  the  teinds. 
We  merely  learn  that  it  was  a  transaction  "  of  a  very 
old  date."  The  chances  are  that  he  was  a  child.  If  so,  it 
is  very  unlikely  that  his  father  would  have  related  to  him 
all  the  minute  details  connected  with  such  a  transaction, 
as  the  difficulty  about  getting  change  for  a  Portuguese 
coin,  and  the  adjournment  to  a  tavern.  If,  on  the  other 
hand,  he  was  already  of  adult  age,  it  is  not  probable 
that  a  matter  of  so  much  importance  should  have  so 
completely  faded  from  his  memory  that  it  could  not  be 
(as  to  the  recollection  of  the  aged  attorney  it  was;  con- 
sciously recalled.  And  it  is  evident  that  it  was  not  so 
recalled.  The  son  firmly  believed  that  it  was  no  revival 
of  recollection,  but  that  he  had  actually  conversed  with 


108  EXAMINATION    OF 

his  ijarent's  spirit ;  for,  Scott  tells  us,  "  This  remarkable 
circumstance  was  attended  with  bad  consequences  to 
Mr.  Eutherford,  whose  health  and  spirits  were  after- 
w^ard  impaired  by  the  attention  which  he  thought  him- 
self obliged  to  pay  to  the  visions  of  the  night." 

There  is  yet  another  difficulty;  the  coincidences, 
namely,  between  the  suggestions  of  the  (alleged)  spirit 
and  what  actually  happened  during  the  visit  to  the 
attorney  at  Inveresk.  He  had  forgotten  the  trans- 
action. Was  that  circumstance  anticipated  by  chance  ? 
His  memory  was  refreshed  by  allusion  to  the  incident 
of  the  Portugal  piece  of  gold.  Was  that  a  purely  for- 
tuitous selection  ? 

Unless  we  assume  it  as  a  point  settled  that  there  is 
no  such  thing  as  ultramundane  communication,  the 
simple  and  natural  conclusion  in  such  a  case  surely  is, 
that  the  father  really  appeared,  in  dream,  to  the  son. 
And  an  argument  against  this  which  Scott  adduces  in 
his  comments  on  the  story  has  little  weight.  He  says, 
"Few  will  suppose  that  the  laws  of  nature  were  sus- 
pended, and  a  special  communication  from  the  dead  to  the 
living  permitted,  for  the  purpose  of  saving  Mr.  Euther- 
ford a  certain  number  of  hundred  pounds."  It  is  quite 
true  that  these  would  be  unreasonable  suppositions. 
Little  as  we  can  safely  predicate  in  regard  to  the  ways  of 
God,  we  may  still  give  weight  to  the  ancient  maxim, 
**Nec  Deus  intersit,  nisi  dignus  vindice  nodus."  But, 
assuming  for  a  moment  that  it  was  the  paternal  spirit 
who  conveyed  intelligence  to  the  son,  it  does  not  by  any 
means  follow  that  there  was  a  suspension  of  the  laws  of 
nature,  or  any  special  permission  required,  in  the  case.  I 
have  already*  given  my  reasons  for  beheving  that  if 
there  be  occasional  communication  between  the  dead  and 
the  living,  it  occurs  under  certain  fixed  conditions,  perhaps 

♦  Book  I.  chapter iiL, on  "The  Miraculous." 


scott's  story  109 

physical,  at  all  events  governed  by  laws  as  constant  and 
unchangeable  as  are  those  which  hold  the  planets  to  their 
appointed  course.  And  if,  as  Scripture  intimates*  and 
poets  have  sung,-j-  the  spirits  of  the  departed  still  take 
an  interest  in  the  well-being  of  those  friends  they  have 
left  behind  upon  earth,  and  if  they  may  sometimes,  by 
virtue  of  these  laws,  evince  that  interest,  why  maj-  wo 
not  imagine  a  father  availing  himself  of  such  opportunity 
to  avert  an  injustice  about  to  overtake  his  son  ?  And 
why  should  we  admit  and  adopt  extreme  improbabilities 
in  order,  at  all  hazards,  to  escape  from  such  a  con- 
clusion ? 

Mr.  Eutherford  seems  to  have  fallen  into  the  same 
error  as  Sir  Walter ;  though  in  the  case  of  the  latter  it 
resulted  in  skepticism,  and  of  the  former,  in  superstition. 
A  more  enlightened  view  of  the  case  might  have  bene- 
fited both.  It  might  have  induced  the  author  of 
Waverley  to  doubt  the  propriety  of  denying  (if  indeed 
he  did  in  his  heart  deny)  the  occasional  reality  of  ultra- 
mundane agency ;  and  it  might  have  spared  Mr.  Euther- 

•  Luke  xvi.  27. 

"  Tbey  that  tell  as  that  such  as  Dives  retain  no  love  to  their  brethren  on 
earth,  epeak  more  than  they  can  prove,  and  are  not  so  credible  as  Christy 
that  seemeth  to  say  the  contrary." — Baxter:    World  of  Spirits,  p.  222. 
t  "  And  is  there  care  in  Heaven  ?     And  is  there  love 
In  heavenly  spirits  to  these  creatures  base, 
That  may  compassion  of  their  evils  move  ? 
There  is  !" — Spenser. 
When  a  beloved  child  is  taken  from  us,  there  is,  perhaps,  no  idea  to  which 
the  bereaved  heart  turns  more  eagerly  and  naturally  than  to  this.     In  the 
Protestant  cemetery  at  Naples  lie  the  remains  of  a  young  girl,  the  beautiful 
and  gifted  daughter  of  an  American  clergyman;  and  upon  her  tombstone 
I  had  inscribed,  by  the  father's  instructions,  the  well-known  stanza, — who 
has  not  admired  it? — 

*'  Fold  her,  0  Father,  in  thine  arms. 
And  let  her  henceforth  be 
A  messenger  of  love  between 
Our  human  hearts  and  thee." 


170  CASE    VOUCHED    FOR 

ford  the  delusion  of  imagining,  as  he  seems  to  have  done 
that  he  was  the  favored  subject  of  a  special  and  mira- 
culous intervention  from  God. 

Let  us  proceed  a  step  further.  Supposing  that 
we  are  willing  to  regard  the  two  last-mentioned  cases, 
beset  with  difficulties  though  they  be,  as  mere  examples 
of  old  associations  recalled,  let  us  inquire  whether  no  cases 
are  to  be  found  in  which  there  is  presented  to  the  mind 
of  the  sleeper  a  reality  which  could  not  have  been 
drawn  from  the  forgotten  depths  of  the  memory,  because 
it  never  existed  there.  What  shall  we  do,  for  example, 
with  such  a  case  as  this,  occurring  to  William  Howitt, 
and  recorded  by  that  author  himself?  It  occurred  during 
his  voyage  to  Australia,  in  1852. 

"  Some  weeks  ago,  while  yet  at  sea,  1  had  a  dream  of 
being  at  my  brother's  at  Melbourne,  and  found  his  house 
on  a  hill  at  the  farther  end  of  the  town,  next  to  the 
open  forest.  His  garden  sloped  a  little  way  down  the 
hill  to  some  brick  buildings  below;  and  there  were 
green-houses  on  the  right  hand  by  the  wall,  as  you 
looked  down  the  hill  from  the  house.  As  I  looked  out 
from  the  windows  in  my  dream,  I  saw  a  wood  of  dusky- 
foliaged  trees,  having  a  somewhat  segregated  appear- 
ance in  their  heads;  that  is,  their  heads  did  not  make 
that  dense  mass  hke  our  woods.  'There,'  1  said,  ad- 
dressing some  one  in  my  dream,  'I  see  your  native 
forest  of  Eucalyptus !'  This  dream  I  told  to  my  sons, 
and  to  two  of  my  fellow-passengers,  at  the  time;  and, 
on  landing,  as  we  walked  over  the  meadows,  long  before 
we  reached  the  town,  I  saw  this  very  wood.  '  There,' 
I  said,  'is  the  very  wood  of  my  dream.  We  shall  see 
my  brother's  house  there !'  And  so  we  did.  It  stands 
exactly  as  I  saw  it,  only  looking  newer;  but  there, 
over  the  wall  of  the  garden,  is  the  wood,  precisely  as 
I  saw  it,  and  now  see  it  as  I  sit  at  the  dining-room 


Bt  WILLIAM   HOWltt.  ITl 

wiftdow  writing.  When  I  look  on  this  sCene,  I  fe66m 
to  look  into  my  dream."* 

Unless  we  imagine  thut  Mr.  Howitt  is  confound* 
ing  ideas  originally  obtained  from  a  minuie  description 
of  the  scene  from  his  brother's  windows  with  im- 
pressions here  represented  as  first  received  by  him  in 
dream,  (a  supposition  which  in  the  case  of  so  intelligent 
a  writer  is  inadmissible,)  how  can  we  explain  this  dream 
by  the  theory  of  past  memories  revived  ?  And  here 
the  hypothesis  of  mere  accidental  coincidence  is  cleariy 
out  of  place.  Indeed,  the  case  is  difficult  of  explana- 
tion according  to  any  theory  heretofore  commonly 
received. 

Equally  so  is  the  following,  a  personal  experience, 
given  by  Mrs.  Howitt  in  the  Appendix  to  her  husband's 
translation  of  Ennemoser  just  cited.  "On  the  night 
of  the  12th  of  March,  1853,"  she  says,  "I  dreamed  that 
I  received  a  letter  from  my  eldest  son.  In  my  dream 
I  eagerly  broke  open  the  seal,  and  saw  a  closely- written 
sheet  of  paper;  but  my  eye  caught  only  these  words, 
in  the  middle  of  the  first  page,  written  larger  than  the 
rest,  and  underdrawn  : — ^  My  father  is  very  ilV  The 
utmost  distress  seized  me,  and  I  suddenly  woke  to  find 
it  only  a  dream;  yet  the  painful  impression  of  reality 
was  so  vivid  that  it  was  long  before  I  could  compose 
myself.  The  first  thing  I  did,  the  next  morning,  was 
to  commence  a  letter  to  my  husband,  relating  this  dis- 
tressing dream.  Six  daj^s  afterward,  on  the  18th,  an 
Australian  mail  came  in  and  brought  me  a  letter, — the 
only  letter  I  received  by  that  mail,  and  not  from  any  of 
my  family,  but  from  a  gentleman  in  Australia  with 
whom  we  were  acquainted.  This  letter  was  addressed 
on  the  outside  ^Immediate;'  and,  with  a  trembling  hand, 

*  Given  in  Appendix  to  "Hixtory  of  Magic,'*  by  Ennemoser,  translated 
by  William  Howitt,  London,  1854,  vol.  ii.  p.  416. 


172  MRS.  howitt's  letter. 

1  opened  it;  and,  true  enough,  the  first  words  I  saw 
and  those  written  larger  than  the  rest,  in  the  middle  of 
the  paper,  and  underdrawn,  were,  ^Mr.  Howitt  is  very  ill.^ 
The  context  of  these  terrible  words  was,  however,  '  If 
you  hear  that  Mr.  Howitt  is  very  ill,  let  this  assure  you 
that  he  is  better;'  but  the  only  emphatic  words  were 
those  which  I  saw  in  my  dream,  and  these,  nevertheless, 
slightly  varying,  as,  from  some  cause  or  other,  all  such 
mental  impressions,  spirit-revelations,  or  occult  dark 
sayings,  generally  do,  from  the  truth  or  type  which 
they  seem  to  reflect." 

What  are  we  to  make  of  such  a  case  as  this,  directly 
testified  to  by  a  lady  of  the  highest  character  and  in- 
telligence, and  resting  upon  her  own  personal  expe- 
rience? In  dream,  opening  a  letter  from  her  son,  then 
in  Australia,  she  sees,  written  in  the  middle  of  the  first  page, 
in  characters  larger  than  the  rest,  and  underlined,  the  words, 
"  My  father  is  very  ill."  Six  days  afterward  she  actually 
receives  a  letter  from  Australia,  not  indeed  from  her 
son,  but  from  a  friend,  and  therein,  in  the  middle  of  the 
page,  and  in  characters  larger  than  the  rest,  and  underlined, 
the  first  words  that  meet  her  eye  on  opening  it  are, 
"  Mr.  Howitt  is  very  ill."  Is  this  chance  ?  What !  all 
of  it  ?  First,  the  words,  almost  literally  corresponding, 
and  in  sense  exactly  so ;  next,  the  position  in  the  center 
of  the  paper;  then,  the  larger  size  of  the  characters; 
and,  finally,  the  underlining?  The  mind  instinctively, 
and  most  justly,  rejects  such  a  conclusion.  Whatever 
else  it  is,  it  is  not  chance.  Mesmerists  would  call  it  a 
case  of  clear-sight  (clairvoyance)  or  far-sight  (yue  a 
distance^  characterized  by  somewhat  imperfect  lucidity. 

Lest  the  reader  should  imagine  that  in  accounting 
on  ordinary  principles  for  the  preceding  examples  he 
has  reached  the  lifnit  of  the  difficulties  attending  the 
present  subject,  I  shall  here  cite,  from  a  multitude  of 
similar  examples  of  what  might  not  inaptly  be  termed 


EDMUND  Norway's  dream.  173 

natural  clairvoyance,  one  or  two  additional  cases,  with 
which  the  reader  may  find  it  still  more  embarrassing  to 
deal  on  the  theory  of  fortuitous  coincidence. 

The  truth  of  the  first  is  vouched  for  by  Dr.  Carlyon, 
author  of  a  work  from  which  I  extract  it,  who  had  it 
from  the  main  witness,  and  who  adduces,  in  attestation, 
every  particular  of  name,  place,  and  date. 

THE  MURDER  NEAR  WADEBRIDGE. 

"  On  the  evening  of  the  8th  of  February,  1840,  Mr. 
Nevell  Norway,  a  Cornish  gentleman,  was  cruelly 
murdered  by  two  brothers  of  the  name  of  Lightfoot,  on 
his  way  from  Bodmin  to  Wadebridge,  the  place  of  his 
residence. 

"At  that  time  his  brother,  Mr.  Edmund  Norway,  was 
in  the  command  of  a  merchant-vessel,  the  'Orient,'  on 
her  voyage  from  Manilla  to  Cadiz  j  and  the  following  is 
his  own  account  of  a  dream  which  he  had  on  the  night 
when  his  brother  was  murdered : — 

"Ship  'Oribnt,*  prom  Manilla  to  Cadiz, 

"February  8,  1840. 

"About  7.30  P.M.  the  island  of  St.  Helena  n.n.w.,  dis- 
tant about  seven  miles;  shortened  sail  and  rounded  to 
with  the  ship's  head  to  the  eastward*;  at  eight,  set  the 
watch  and  went  below;  wrote  a  letter  to  my  brother, 
Nevell  Norway.  About  twenty  minutes  or  a  quarter 
before  ten  o'clock,  went  to  bed ;  fell  asleep,  and  dreamt 
I  saw  two  men  attack  my  brother  and  murder  him. 
One  caught  the  horse  by  the  bridle,  and  snapped  a  pistol 
twice,  but  I  heard  no  report;  he  then  struck  him  a  blow, 
and  he  fell  off  the  horse.  They  struck  him  several 
blows,  and  dragged  him  by  the  shoulders  across  the 
road  and  left  him.  In  my  dream,  there  was  a  house  on 
the  left-hand  side  of  the  road.  At  four  o'clock  I  was 
callea,  and  went  on  deck  to  take  charge  of  the  ship.     I 

15* 


174  CASE    VOUCHED    FOR 

told  the  second  officer,  Mr.  Henry  Wren,  that  I  had  had 
a  dreadful  dream, — namely,  that  my  brother  Nevell 
was  murdered  by  two  men  on  the  road  from  St.  Columb 
to  Wadebridge,  but  that  I  felt  sure  it  could  not  be  there, 
as  the  house  there  would  have  been  on  the  right-hand 
pide  of  the  road ;  so  that  it  must  have  been  somewhere 
else.  He  replied,  'Don't  think  any  thing  about  it;  you 
west-country  people  are  so  superstitious!  You  will  make 
yourself  miserable  the  remainder  of  the  voyage.'  He 
then  left  the  general  orders  and  went  below.  It  was 
one  continued  dream  from  the  time  I  fell  asleep  until  1 
was  called,  at  four  o'clock  in  the  morning. 
"Edmund  Norway, 

''Chief  Officer  Ship  '  Orient/ 

"  So  much  for  the  dream.  Now  for  the  confession  of 
William  Lightfoot,  one  of  the  assassins,  who  was  exe- 
cuted, together  with  his  brother,  at  Bodmin,  on  Mon- 
day, April  13,  1840. 

" '  I  went  to  Bodmin  last  Saturday  week,  the  8th  inst., 
(February  8,  1840,)  and  in  returning  I  met  my  brother 
James  at  the  head  of  Dummeer  Hill.  It  was  dim  like. 
We  came  on  the  turnpike-road  all  the  way  till  we  came 
to  the  house  near  the  spot  where  the  murder  was  com- 
mitted. We  did-  not  go  into  the  house,  but  hid  our- 
selves in  a  field.  My  brother  knocked  Mr.  Norway 
down ;  he  snapped  a  pistol  at  him  twice,  and  it  did  not 
go  off.  He  then  knocked  him  down  with  the  pistol.  I 
was  there  along  with  him.  Mr.  Norway  was  struck 
while  on  horseback.  It  was  on  the  turnpike-road,  be- 
tween Pencarrow  Mill  and  the  directing-post  toward 
Wadebridge.  I  cannot  say  at  what  time  of  the  night  it 
was.  We  left  the  body  in  the  water,  on  the  ^eft  side  of 
ihe  road  coming  to  Wadebridge.  We  took  some  money 
in  a  purse,  but  I  did  not  know  how  much.  My  brother 
drew  the  body  across  the  road  to  the  watering.' 


BY    DR.  CARLYON.  1T5 

"  At  the  trial,  Mr.  Abraham  Hambly  deposed  that  he 
left  Bodmin  ten  minutes  before  ten,  and  was  overtaken 
by  Mr.  Norway  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  out  of  Bodmin. 
They  rode  together  for  about  two  miles  from  Bodmin, 
where  their  roads  separated. 

"  Mr.  John  Hick,  a  farmer  of  St.  Minver,  left  Bodmin 
at  a  quarter-past  ten,  on  the  Wadebridge  road.  When 
he  got  to  within  a  mile  of  Wadebridge,  he  saw  Mr.  Nor- 
way's horse  galloping  on  before  him,  without  a  rider. 
The  clock  struck  eleven  just  before  he  entered  Wade- 
bridge. 

"  Thomas  Gregory,  Mr.  Norway's  wagoner,  was  called 
by  Mr.  Hick  about  eleven  o'clock,  and,  going  to  the 
stable,  found  his  master's  horse  standing  at  the  gate. 
Two  spots  of  fresh  blood  were  on  the  saddle.  He  took 
the  pony  and  rode  out  on  the  road.  Edward  Cavell 
went  with  him.  The^  came  to  a  place  ca.*ed  North 
Hill.  There  is  a  lone  cottage  there,  by  the  right-hand 
side  of  the  road  going  to  Bodmin,  which  is  unoccupied. 
On  the  Wadebridge  side  of  the  cottage  there  is  a  small 
orchard  belonging  to  it,  and  near  the  orchard  a  little 
stream  of  water  coming  down  into  the  road.  They  found 
the  body  of  Mr.  Norway  in  the  water. 

"The  evidence  of  the  surgeon,  Mr.  Tickell,  showed 
that  the  head  was  dreadfully  beaten  and  fractured. 

"  It  will  be  seen  that  Mr.  Edmund  Norwaj^,  in  relat 
ing  his  dream  the  following  morning  to  his  shipmate, 
observed  that  the  murder  could  not  have  been  commit- 
ted on  the  St.  Columb  road,  because  the  house,  in  going 
from  thence  to  Wadebridge,  is  on  the  right  hand, 
whereas  the  house  was  in  his  dream  (and  in  reality  is) 
on  the  left.  Now,  this  circumstance,  however  appa- 
rently trivial,  tends  somewhat  to  enhance  the  interest 
of  the  dream,  without  in  the  least  impugning  its  fidelity; 
for  such  fissures  are  characteristic  of  these  sensorial  im- 
pressions, which  are  altogether  involuntary,  and  bear  a 


176  EXAMINATION   OF 

much  nearer  relation  to  the  productions  of  the  daguer- 
reotype than  to  those  of  the  portrait-painter,  whoso 
lines  are  at  his  command. 

"  I  asked  Mr.  Edmund  Norway  whether,  supposing 
that  he  had  not  written  a  letter  to  his  brother,  Mr.  N. 
Norway,  on  the  evening  of  the  8th  February,  and  had 
nevertheless  dreamt  the  dream  in  question,  the  impres- 
sion made  by  it  would  have  been  such  as  to  have  pre- 
vented his  writing  to  him  subsequently.  To  which  he 
replied,  that  it  might  not  have  had  that  eifect ;  but  he 
could  not  say  with  any  precision  whether  it  would  or 
not. 

"At  all  events,  the  dream  must  be  considered  remark- 
able, from  its  unquestionable  authenticity,  and  its  perfect 
coincidence  in  time  and  circumstances  with  a  most  hor- 
rible murder."* 

«■ 

So  far  the  statement  of  Dr.  Carlyon.  Let  us  briefly 
review  the  case  it  presents. 

The  coincidence  as  to  time  is  exact,  the  murder  occur- 
ring on  the  same  night  as  the  dream.  The  incident  is 
not  an  ordinary  accident,  but  a  crime  of  rare  occurrence. 
The  precise  correspondence  between  the  dream  and  the 
actual  occurrences  is  not  left  to  be  proved  by  recollections 
called  up  weeks  or  months  after  the  dream ;  for  the  evi- 
dence is  an  extract  taken  verbatim  from  the  ship's  log, 
— ^the  record  of  the  moment,  when  every  thing  was  fresh 
on  the  memory. 

It  is  very  true  that  Mr.  Norway  had  been  writing 
to  his  brother  just  before  he  retired  to  rest;  and  the 
chances  are  that  he  fell  asleep  thinking  of  him.  It  is 
possible  that,  but  for  this  direction  of  his  thoughts,  he 
might  not  have  had  the  dream  at  all ;  for  who  shall  de- 

*  "  JEarly  Years  and  Late  Bejlectiona,"  hy  Clement  Carlyon,  M.D..  Fel 
low  of  Pembroke  College,  in  2  vols.,  vol.  i.  p.  219. 


CORRESPONDENCES.  177 

termme  the  power  of  sympathy,  or  assign  to  that  power 
its  limit  ? 

It  was  natural,  then,  that  he  should  dream  of  his  bro- 
ther. But  was  it  (in  the  usual  acceptation  of  the  term) 
natural,  also,  that  every  minute  particular  of  that  night's 
misdeeds,  perpetrated  in  England,  should  be  seen  at  the 
time,  in  a  vision  of  the  night,  by  a  seaman  in  a  vessel 
off  the  island  of  St.  Helena  ? 

The  minuteness  of  the  correspondence  can  best  be 
judged  by  placing  the  various  incidents  seen  in  the 
dream  in  juxtaposition  with  those  which  were  proved, 
on  the  trial,  to  have  happened. 

Mr.  Edmund  Norway  dreamed  that        Mr.  Novell  Norway  wa«  attacked, 
his  brother  Nevell  was  attacked  by     the  same  night,  by  William  Light- 
two  men,  and  murdered.  foot  and  his  brother  James,  and  was 
murdered  by  them. 

Mr.  Edmund  Norway  dreamed  that  "  It  was  on  the  turnpike-road  be* 
**  it  was  on  the  road  from  St  Columb  tween  Pencarrow  Mill  and  the  direct- 
to  Wadebridge."  ing-post  toward  Wadebridge." 

Mr.  Edmund  Norway  dreamed  that  James  Lightfoot  '^  snapped  a  pistol 

"one  of  the  men  caught  the  horse  by  at  Mr.  Norway  twice,  and  it  did  not 

the  bridle,  and  snapped  a  pistol  twice,  go  off  j  he  then  knocked  him  down 

but  he  heard   no   report ;    he  then  with  the  pistol."  .  .  .  *'  Mr.  Norway 

struck  him  a  blow,  and  he  fell  off  his  was  struck  while  on  horseback." 
horse." 

Mr.  Edmund  Norway  dreamed  that  James  Lightfoot  "  drew  the  body 

the  murderers  "  struck  his  brother  se-  across  the  road  to  the  watering.".  .  . 

veral  blows,  and  dragged  him  by  the  The  murderers  "  left  the  body  in  the 

■boulders  across  the  road,  and  left  water,  on  the  left  side  of  the  road 

him."  coming  to  Wadebridge." 

A  more  complete  series  of  correspondences  between 
dream  and  reality  can  hardly  be  imagined.  The  inci- 
dent of  the  pistol  twice  missing  fire  is  in  itself  conclu- 
sive. The  various  coincidences,  taken  together,  as  proof 
that  chance  is  not  the  true  explanation,  have  all  the 
force  of  a  demonstration  in  Euclid. 
M 


178  THE   TWO   FIELD-MICE. 

There  was  an  inaccuracy,  as  to  the  house  on  the  left 
of  the  road,  while  it  really  stands  on  the  right ;  just  as 
the  words  in  Mrs.  Howitt's  letter  slightly  varied  from 
those  she  had  read  in  dream, — instructive  inaccuracies 
these,  not  in  the  least  invalidating  the  proofs  which 
exist  independent  of  them,  but  teaching  us  that,  even 
through  an  agency  such  as  we  have  been  accustomed  to 
call  supernatural,  truth  may  come  to  us,  mingled  with 
error,  and  that  clairvoyance,  even  the  most  remarkable, 
is  at  best  uncertain  and  fallible. 

The  next  example — also  of  far-sight  in  dream— I  ob- 
tained by  personal  interview  with  the  gentleman  who  19 
the  subject  of  it. 

THE  TWO  FIELD-MICE. 

In  the  winter  of  1835-36,  a  schooner  was  frozen  up  in 
the  upper  part  of  the  Bay  of  Fundy,  close  to  Dorchester, 
which  is  nine  miles  from  the  river  Pedeudiac.  During 
the  time  of  her  detention  she  was  intrusted  to  the  care 
of  a  gentleman  of  the  name  of  Clarke,  who  is  at  this 
time  captain  of  the  schooner  Julia  Hallock,  trading 
between  New  York  and  St.  Jago  de  Cuba. 

Captain  Clarke's  paternal  grandmother,  Mrs.  Ann 
Dawe  Clarke,  to  whom  he  was  much  attached,  was  at 
that  time  living,  and,  so  far  as  he  knew,  well.  She  was 
residing  at  Lyme-Eegis,  in  the  county  of  Dorset, 
England. 

On  the  night  of  the  17th  of  February,  1836,  Captain 
Clarke,  then  on  board  the  schooner  referred  to,  had  a 
dream  of  so  vivid  a  character  that  it  produced  a  great 
impression  upon  him.  He  dreamed  that,  being  at  Lyme- 
Eegis,  he  saw  pass  before  him  the  funeral  of  his  grand- 
mother. He  took  note  of  the  chief  persons  who  composed 
the  procession,  observed  who  were  the  pall-bearers,  who 
were  the  mourners,  and  in  what  order  they  walked,  and 
distinguished  who  was  the  officiating  pastor.     Ho  joined 


THE  TWO   FIELD-MIOE.  179 

the  procession  as  it  approached  the  churchyard  ^'ite, 
and  proceeded  with  it  to  the  grave.  He  thought  (in  his 
dream)  that  the  weather  was  stormy,  and  the  ground 
wot,  as  after  a  heavy  rain;  and  he  noticed  that  the 
wind,  being  high,  blew  the  pall  partly  off  the  coffin. 
The  graveyard  which  they  entered,  the  old  Protestant 
one,  in  the  center  of  the  town,  was  the  same  in  which^  a» 
Captain  Clarke  knew,  their  family  burying-place  was. 
He  perfectly  remembered  its  situation ;  but,  to  his  sur- 
prise, the  funeral  procession  did  not  proceed  thither, 
but  to  another  part  of  the  churchyard,  at  some  distance. 
There  (still  in  his  dream)  he  saw  the  open  grave,  par- 
tially filled  with  water,  as  from  the  rain ;  and,  looking 
into  it,  he  particularly  noticed  floating  in  the  water  two 
drowned  field-mice.  Afterward,  as  he  thought,  he  con- 
versed with  his  mother;  and  she  told  him  that  the  morn- 
ing had  been  so  tempestuous  that  the  funeral,  originally 
appointed  for  ten  o'clock,  had  been  deferred  till  four. 
He  remarked,  in  reply,  that  it  was  a  fortunate  circum- 
stance ;  for,  as  he  had  just  arrived  in  time  to  join  the 
procession,  had  the  funeral  taken  place  in  the  forenoon 
he  could  not  have  attended  it  at  all. 

This  dream  made  so  deep  an  impression  on  Captain 
Clarke  that  in  the  morning  he  noted  the  date  of  it.  Some 
time  afterward  there  came  the  news  of  his  grandmother's 
death,  with  the  additional  particular  that  she  was  buried 
on  the  same  day  on  which  he,  being  in  North  America, 
had  dreamed  of  her  funeral. 

When,  four  years  afterward.  Captain  Clarke  visited 
Lyme-Kegis,  he  found  that  every  particular  of  his  dream 
minutely  corresponded  with  the  reality.  The  pastor,  the 
pall-bearers,  the  mourners,  were  the  same  persops  he 
had  seen.  Yet  this,  we  niay  suppose,  he  might  paturally 
have  anticipated.  But  the  funeral  had  been  appointed 
foi  ten  o'clock  in  the  morning,  and,  in  consequence  of 
the  teinpesti;oi;8  weather  ^pd  the  heavy  r^jn  that  was 


180  DEATH   OP   MR.  PERCIVAL. 

railing,  it  had  been  delayed  until  four  in  the  afternoon. 
His  mother,  who  attended  the  funeral,  distinctly  re- 
collected that  the  high  wind  blew  the  pall  partially  off 
the  coffin.  In  consequence  of  a  wish  expressed  by  the 
old  lady  shortly  before  her  death,  she  was  buried,  not  in 
the  burying-place  of  the  family,  but  at  another  spot, 
selected  by  herself;  and  to  this  spot  Captain  Clarke, 
without  any  indication  from  the  family  or  otherwise, 
proceeded  at  once,  as  directly  as  if  he  had  been  present 
at  the  burial.  Finally,  on  comparing  notes  with  the 
old  sexton,  it  appeared  that  the  heavy  rain  of  the 
morning  had  partially  filled  the  grave,  and  that  there 
were  actually  found  in  it  two  field-mice,  drowned. 

This  last  incident,  even  if  there  were  no  other,  might 
suffice  to  preclude  all  idea  of  accidental  coincidence. 

The  above  was  narrated  to  me  by  Captain  Clarke  him- 
self,* with  permission  to  use  his  name  in  attestation  of 
its  truth.f 

*  In  New  York,  on  July  28,  1859.  The  narrative  is  written  out  from 
notes  taken  on  board  his  schooner. 

f  I  originally  intended  to  insert  here  a  dream  connected  with  a  well- 
known  incident  in  English  history,  and  vouched  for  by  Dr.  Abercrombie 
in  his  ''Intellectual  Powers"  pp.  218,  219. 

As  there  related,  it  is  in  substance  to  the  effect  that,  eight  days  before  t^e 
murder  of  Mr.  Percival,  Chancellor  of  the  Exchequer,  in  the  lobby  of  the 
English  House  of  Commons,  in  1812,  a  gentleman  in  Cornwall  saw,  in 
dream  thrice  repeated,  every  particular  of  the  murder,  even  to  the  dress  of  the 
parties,  and  was  told  (still  in  dream)  that  it  was  the  Chancellor  who  was 
shot;  all  which  made  so  much  impression  on  the  dreamer  that  he  was 
only  deterred  from  giving  notice  to  Mr.  Percival  by  the  assurances  of  hia 
friends  that,  if  he  did  so,  he  would  be  treated  as  a  fanatic. 

Dr.  Oarlyon,  in  his  work  already  referred  to,  quotes  and  indorses  the 
story,  adding,  "The  dream  in  question  occurred  in  Cornwall,  to  Mr^ 
Williams,  of  Scorrier  House,  still  alive,  (February,  1836,)  and  now  residing 
at  Calstock,  Devon,  from  whose  lips  I  have  more  than  once  heard  the 
relation." 

There  is,  however,  another  and  much  more  minute  version  of  the  story, 
given  during  Mr.  Williams's  life,  in  the  (London)  "Times"  of  August  16, 
1828,  and   coming,  as  the  editor  states,  from  "  a  correspondent  of  un« 


DREAM   OP   A    TRIVIAL   CHARACTER.  181 

If,  as  to  the  faculty  of  farsight  or  natural  clairvoyance 
In  dream,  evidently  substantiated  by  the  preceding 
examples,  any  should  be  tempted  to  regard  it  as  a 
miraculous  gift,  they  would  do  well  to  bear  in  mind  the 
fact  that,  while  in  some  of  the  examples  of  this  faculty 
we  find  cases  in  which  life  and  death  are  at  stake, 
others,  equally  authentic,  are  to  be  found  of  the  most 
trivial  character. 

Of  the  latter  is  the  following  example,  for  the  ac- 
curacy of  which  Abercrombie  vouches.  "A  lady  in 
Edinburgh  had  sent  her  watch  to  be  repaired.  A  long 
time  elapsed  without  her  being  able  to  recover  it ;  and, 
after  many  excuses,  she  began  to  suspect  that  something 
was  wrong.  She  now  dreamed  that  the  watchmaker's 
boy,  by  whom  the  watch  was  sent,  had  dropped  it  in 
the  street,  and  had  injured  it  in  such  a  manner  that  it 
could  not  be  repaired.  She  went  to  the  master,  and, 
without  any  allusion  to  her  dream,  put  the  question  to 
him  directly,  when  he  confessed  that  it  was  true."* 

In  this  case,  nothing  can  be  more  ridiculous  than  to 
imagine  that  there  was  miraculous  intervention  for  the 
purpose  of  informing  a  lady  why  her  watch  was  detained 
at  the  maker's;  yet  how  extreme  the  improbability,  also, 
that,  among  the  ten  thousand  possible  causes  of  that  de- 
tention, chance  should  indicate  to  her,  in  dream,  the  very 

questionable  veracity,"  in  which,  while  Mr.  Scorrier's  name  and  address 
are  furnished,  and  all  the  particulars  save  one  given  by  Dr.  Abercrombie 
are  strictly  corroborated,  that  one  fails.  Dr.  Abercrombie,  who  says  he 
"derived  the  particulars  from  an  eminent  medical  friend  in  England," 
mentions  that  the  dream  occurred  eight  daya  before  the  murder;  while  in 
the  "Times"  version  it  is  expressly  stated  that  it  was  "on  the  night  of  the 
11th  of  May,  1812,"  the  same  on  which  Mr.  Percival  was  shot. 

Thus  we  are  left  in  doubt  whether  this  dream  is  of  a  prophetic  or  simply 
of  a  clairvoyant  character.  The  one  or  the  other  it  clearly  is.  But,  in  tbii 
uncertainty,  after  spending  several  days  in  collecting  and  collating  the 
conflicting  accounts,  I  omit  all  but  this  brief  notice  of  the  incident 

♦  Abercrombie's  " Intellectual  Powert"  p.  215. 
16 


182  ONE   DREAM   THE 

one,  though  apparently  among  the  most  far-fetched  and 
unlikely,  that  was  found  exactly  to  coincide  with  the 
fact  as  it  occurred  ! 

The  attempt  is  futile  to  explain  away  even  such  a 
simple  narrative  as  the  foregoing,  unless  we  impeach 
the  good  faith  of  the  narrator;  imagining,  let  us  sup- 
pose, that  he  has  willfully  concealed  some  essential  at- 
tendant circumstance,  as,  for  instance,  that  the  lady 
whose  watch  was  injured  had  reason,  from  information 
obtained,  to  surmise  that  the  boy  might  have  dropped  it. 
But,  when  Abercrombie  vouches  for  the  narrative  as 
authentic,  his  voucher  excludes,  of  course,  suppositions 
which  would  deprive  the  anecdote  of  all  value  whatever 
in  the  connection  in  which  he  publishes  it. 

In  the  three  examples  which  follow,  and  which  are  of 
a  different  class 'from  any  of  the  preceding,  we  may  go 
flirther  yet,  and  assert  that,  unless  the  narrators  directly 
lie,  there  are  phenomena  and  laws  connected  with  dream- 
ing which  have  never  yet  been  explained,  and  have 
scarcely  been  investigated. 

The  first  was  communicated  to  me  in  March,  1859,  by 

Miss  A.  M.  H ,  the  talented  daughter  of  a  gentleman 

well  known  in  the  literary  circles  of  Great  Britain.  I 
give  it  in  her  words. 

ONE  DREAM  THE  COUNTERPART  OF  ANOTHER. 

"  We  had  a  friend,  S ,  who  some  years  ago  was 

in  a  delicate  state  of  health,  believed  to  be  consumptive. 
lie  lived  several  hundred  miles  from  us,  and,  although 
our  family  were  intimately  acquainted  with  himself,  we 
knew  neither  his  home  nor  any  of  his  family;  our  inter- 
course being  chiefly  by  letters,  received  at  intervals. 

"One  night,  when  there  was  no  special  cause  for  my 
mind  reverting  to  our  friend  or  to  his  state  of  health,  1 
dreamed  that  I  hiad  to  go  to  the  town  where  he  rc<^ideil 


COUNTERPART  OF  ANOTHER.  183 

In  my  dream  I  seemed  to  arrive  at  a  particular  house, 
ihto  which  I  entered,  and  went  straight  up-otairs  into  a 

darkened   chamber.     There,  on  his   bed,  I   saw  S 

lying  as  if  about  to  die.  I  walked  up  to  him;  and,  not 
mournfully,  but  as  if  filled  with  hopeful  assurance,  I  took 
his  hand  and  said,  *  No,  you  are  not  going  to  die.  Be 
comforted :  you  will  live.'  Even  as  I  spoke  I  seemed 
to  hear  an  exquisite  strain  of  music  sounding  through 
the  room. 

"On  awaking,  so  vivid  were  the  impressions  remaining 
that,  unable  to  shake  them  off  even  the  next  day,  I 
communicated  them  to  my  mother,  and  then  wrote  to 

S ,  inquiring  after  his  health,  but  giving  him  no  clew 

to  the  cause  of  my  anxiety. 

"His  reply  informed  us  that  he  had  been  very  ill, — in- 
deed, supposed  to  be  at  the  point  of  death, — and  that  my 
letter,  which  for  several  days  he  had  been  too  ill  to  read, 
had  been  a  great  happiness  to  him. 

"  It  was  three  years  after  this  that  my  mother  and  I 

met  S in  London ;  and,  the  conversation  turning  on 

dreams,  I  said,  *  By  the  way,  I  had  a  singular  dream 
about  you  three  years  ago,  when  you  were  so  ill :'  and  I 
related  it.  As  I  proceeded,  I  observed  a  remarkable  ex- 
pression spread  over  his  face ;  and  when  I  concluded  he 
said,  with  much  emotion,  *This  is  singular  indeed;  for 
I  too  had,  a  night  or  two  before  your  letter  arrived,  a 
dream  the  very  counterpart  of  yours.  I  seemed  to  my- 
self on  the  point  of  death,  and  was  taking  final  leave 
of  my  brother.  "Is  there  any  thing,"  he  said,  "I 
can  do  for  you  before  you  die?" — "Yes,"  I  replied,  in  my 

dream  ;  "  two  things.    Send  for  my  friend  A.  M.  H . 

I  must  see  her  before  I  depart." — "  Impossible !"  said  my 
brother:  "it  would  be  an  unheard-of  thing:  she  would 
never  come." — "She  would,"  I  insisted,  in  my  dream, 
and  added,  "  I  would  also  hear  my  favorite  sonata  by 
Beethoven,  ere  1  die  " — <<  But  these  are  trifles,"  exclaimed 


184  THE   DREAM   OP 

my  brother,  almost  sterDly.  "  Have  you  no  desires  more 
earnest  at  so  solemn  an  hour?" — "No:  to  see  my  friend 
A.  M.  and  to  hear  that  sonata,  that  is  all  I  wish."  And, 
even  as  I  spoke,  in  my  dream  I  saw  you  enter.  You 
walked  up  to  the  bed  with  a  cheerful  air;  and,  while 
the  music  I  had  longed  for  filled  the  room,  you  spoke  to 
me  encouragingly,  saying  I  should  not  die/  " 

Knowing  the  writer  well,  I  can  vouch  for  this  narration: 
embodying,  as  it  does,  that  rare  and  very  remarkable  phe- 
nomenon, two  concurring  and  synchronous  dreams. 

The  next  example  is  adduced  by  Abercrombie*  aa 
having  been  mentioned  by  Mr.  Joseph  Taylorf  for  an 
undoubted  fact.  It  occurred  to  the  late  Eev.  Joseph  Wil- 
kins,  afterward  dissenting  clergyman  at  Weymouth,  in 
Dorsetshire,  England,  but  then  usher  of  a  school  in 
Devonshire,  when  he  was  twenty-three  years  of  age ;  to 
wit,  in  the  year  1754.  Mr.  Wilkins  died  November  22, 
1800,  in  the  seventieth  year  of  his  age.  In  the  Obituary 
of  the  "  Gentleman's  Magazine"  is  a  notice  of  his  death, 
in  which  it  is  said  of  him,  "  For  liberality  of  sentiment, 
generosity  of  disposition,  and  uniform  integrity,  he  had 
few  equals  and  hardly  any  superiors."! 

The  original  narrative  was  prepared  and  carefully 
preserved  by  himself  in  writing,  and  (the  title  only 
being  added  by  me)  is  in  these  words : — 

THE  MOTHER  AND  SON. 

"  One  night,  soon  after  I  was  in  bed,  I  fell  asleep, 
and  dreamed  I  was  going  to  London.  I  thought  it 
would  not  be  much  out  of  my  way  to  go  through  Glou- 
cestershire  and  call  upon  my  friends  there.     Accord- 


*  "  Intellectual  Powers,"  pp.  215.  21 6. 

f  He  relates  it  in  his  work  entitled  "  Danger  of  Premature  Inter m$nt  ** 

X  "  Gentleman'a  Magazine"  for  the  year  1800,  p.  1216. 


JOSEPH   WILKINS.  185 

ingly,  1  set  out,  but  remembered  nothing  that  hap- 
pened by  the  way  till  I  came  to  my  father's  house; 
when  I  went  to  the  front  door  and  tried  to  open  it,  but 
found  it  fast.  Then  I  went  to  the  back  door,  which  I 
opened,  and  went  in;  but,  finding  all  the  family  were  in 
bed,  I  crossed  the  rooms  only,  went  up-stairs,  and  en- 
tered the  chamber  where  my  father  and  mother  were  in 
bed.  As  I  went  by  the  side  of  the  bed  on  which  my 
father  lay,  I  found  him  asleep,  or  thought  he  was  bo; 
then  I  went  to  the  other  side,  and,  having  just  turned 
the  foot  of  the  bed,  I  found  my  mother  awake,  to  whom 
I  said  these  words  : — '  Mother,  I  am  going  a  long  jour- 
ney, and  am  come  to  bid  you  good-bye.'  Upon  which 
she  answered,  in  a  fright,  *  Oh,  dear  son,  thou  art  dead!' 
With  this  I  awoke,  and  took  no  notice  of  it  more  than 
a  common  dream,  except  that  it  appeared  to  me  very 
perfect.  In  a  few  days  after,  as  soon  as  a  letter  could 
reach  me,  I  received  one  by  post  from  my  father;  upon 
the  receipt  of  which  I  was  a  little  surprised,  and  con- 
cluded something  extraordinary  must  have  happened, 
as  it  was  but  a  short  time  before  I  had  a  letter  from  my 
friends,  and  all  were  well.  Upon  opening  it  I  was 
more  surprised  still;  for  my  father  addressed  me  as 
though  I  was  dead,  desiring  me,  if  alive,  or  whoever's 
hands  the  letter  might  fall  into,  to  write  immediately; 
but  if  the  letter  should  find  me  living  they  concluded 
I  should  not  live  long,  and  gave  this  as  the  reason  of 
their  fears: — That  on  a  certain  night,  naming  it,  after 
they  were  in  bed,  my  father  asleep  and  my  mother 
awake,  she  heard  somebody  try  to  open  the  front 
door;  but,  finding  it  fast,  he  went  to  the  back  door, 
which  he  opened,  came  in,  and  came  directly  through 
the  rooms  up-stairs,  and  she  perfectly  knew  it  to  be  my 
ctep;  but  I  came  to  her  bedside,  and  spoke  to  her 
these  words : — '  Mother,  I  am  going  a  long  journey,  and 
have   come  to   bid  you   good-bye.'      Upon  which 'she 

16* 


1^6  A   MIRACLE   WITHOUT   A    MOTIVE? 

answered  me^  in  a  fright,  *0h,  dear  son,  thou  art 
dead  !' — which  were  the  circumstances  and  words  of 
my  dream.  But  she  heard  nothing  more,  and  saw 
nothing  more;  neither  did  I  in  my  dream.  Upon  this 
she  awoke,  and  told  my  father  what  had  passed;  but 
he  endeavored  to  appease  her,  persuading  her  it  was 
only  a  dream.  She  insisted  it  was  no  dream,  for  that  she 
was  as  perfectly  awake  as  ever  she  was,  and  had  not 
the  least  inclination  to  sleep  since  she  was  in  bed. 
From  these  circumstances  I  am  apt  to  think  it  was 
at  the  very  same  instant  when  my  dream  happened, 
though  the  distance  between  us  was  about  one  hundred 
miles;  but  of  this  I  cannot  speak  positively.  This  oc- 
curred while  I  was  at  the  academy  at  Otterj^,  Devon,  in 
the  year  1754 ;  and  at  this  moment  every  circumstance 
is  fresh  upon  my  mind.  I  have,  since,  had  frequent 
opportunities  of  talking  over  the  affair  with  my  mother, 
and  the  whole  was  as  fresh  upon  her  mind  as  it  was 
upon  mine.  I  have  often  thought  that  her  sensations, 
as  to  this  matter,  were  stronger  than  mine.  What  may 
appear  strange  is,  that  I  cannot  remember  any  thing 
remarkable  happening  hereupon.  This  is  only  a  plain, 
simple  narrative  of  a  matter  of  fact." 

That  nothing  extraordinary  occurred  in  the  sequel — 
no  sudden  death,  for  example,  of  which  the  above 
might  have  been  construed  into  a  warning — is  an  in- 
structive peculiarity  in  this  case.  Shall  we  say  of  it,  as 
the  superstitious  usually  sa^^  of  such  phenomena,  that 
it  was  of  a  miraculous  character?  Then  we  have  a 
miracle  without  a  motive.  This  single  incident,  if  we 
admit  its  authenticity,  might  alone  suffice  to  disprove 
the  common  notions  on  this  subject.  And  the  total 
disconnection  of  the  above  facts  from  any  alleged  pre- 
diction or  presentiment  may  stand  as  an  additional 
voucher  for  their  truth.     There  was  nothing  tending  to 


THE  mother's  longing.  187 

mislead  the  imagination ;  no  ground  upon  which  any 
one  would  be  tempted  to  erect  a  fanciful  super- 
structure. 

Nor  does  this  narrative,  inexplicable  as  the  circura* 
stances  may  appear,  stand  alone  in  its  class.  Another, 
remarkably  well  authenticated,  is  given,  amid  fifty 
other  narratives  of  very  apocryphal  seeming,  by  Bax- 
ter, in  his  well-known  "  Certainty  of  the  World  of 
Spirits."*  It  is  from  a  brother  clergyman,  residing  ic 
Kent.  I  transcribe  it  literally,  adding  the  title  only,  && 
follows : — 

THE  MOTHER'S  LONQING. 

"  Eeverend  Sir  : — 

"  Being  informed  that  you  are  writing  about  witch- 
craft and  apparitions,  I  take  the  liberty,  though  a 
stranger,  to  send  you  the  following  relation : — 

"  Mary,  the  wife  of  John  Goffe,  of  Rochester,  being 
afflicted  with  a  long  illness,  removed  to  her  father's 
house  at  West  Mailing,  which  is  about  nine  miles  dis- 
tant from  her  own.  There  she  died  June  the  4th,  this 
present  year,  1691. 

"The  day  before  her  departure  she  grew  very  im- 
patiently desirous  to  see  her  two  children,  whom  she 
had  left  at  home  to  the  care  of  a  nurse.  She  prayed  her 
husband  to  hire  a  horse,  for  she  must  go  home  and  die 
with  the  children.  When  they  persuaded  her  to  the 
contrary,  telling  her  she  was  not  fit  to  be  taken  out  of 
her  bed,  nor  able  to  sit  on  horseback,  she  intreated  them, 
however,  to  try.  *If  I  cannot  sit,'  said  she,  *I  will  lie 
all  along  upon  the  horse;  for  I  must  go  to  see  my  poor 
babes.'  A  minister  who  lives  in  the  town  was  with  her 
It  :en  o'clock  that  night,  to  whom  she  expressed  good 


*  "  The  Certainty  of  the  World  of  Spiriu,"  by  Richard  Baxter,  London 
1691,  chap.  viL  pp.  U7  to  151. 


188  MARY   (JOFFE   CASE. 

hopes  in  the  mercies  of  God,  and  a  willingness  to  die: 
*But/  said  she,  ^it  is  my  misery  that  I  cannot  see  my 
children/  Between  one  and  two  o'clock  in  the  morning 
she  fell  into  a  trance.  One  widow  Turner,  who  watched 
with  her  that  night,  says  that  her  eyes  were  open  and 
fixed  and  her  jaw  fallen.  She  put  her  hand  upon  her 
mouth  and  nostrils,  but  could  perceive  no  breath.  She 
thought  her  to  be  in  a  fit;  and  doubted  whether  she 
were  dead  or  alive. 

"  The  next  morning  this  dying  woman  told  her  mother 
that  she  had  been  at  home  with  her  children.  ^That  is 
impossible,'  said  the  mother;  ^for  you  have  been  in  bed 
all  the  while.'  'Yes,'  replied  the  other,  'but  I  was 
with  them  last  night  when  I  was  asleep.' 

"The  nurse  at  Eochester,  widow  Alexander  by  name, 
affirms,  and  says  she  will  take  her  oath  on't  before  a 
magistrate,  and  receive  the  sacrament  upon  it,  that  a 
little  before  two  o'clock  that  morning  she  saw  the  like- 
ness of  the  said  Mary  Goffe  come  out  of  the  next  chamber, 
(where  the  elder  child  lay  in  a  bed  by  itself,)  the  door 
being  left  open,  and  stood  by  her  bedside  for  about  a 
quarter  of  an  hour;  the  younger  child  was  there  lying 
by  her.  Her  eyes  moved  and  her  mouth  went;  but  she 
said  nothing.  The  nurse,  moreover,  says  that  she  was 
perfectly  awake ;  it  was  then  daylight,  being  one  of  the 
longest  days  in  the  year.  She  sate  up  in  her  bed  and 
looked  stedfastly  upon  the  apparition.  In  that  time  she 
heard  the  bridge-clock  strike  two,  and  a  while  after 
said,  'In  the  name  of  the  Father,  Son,  and  Holy  Ghost, 
what  art  thou?'  Thereupon  the  appearance  removed, 
and  went  away;  she  slipp'd  on  her  cloaths  and  followed, 
but  what  became  on't  she  cannot  tell.  Then,  and  not 
before,  she  began  to  be  grievously  affrighted,  and  went 
out  of  doors  and  walked  upon  the  wharf  (the  bouse  is 
just  on  the  river-side)  for  some  hours,  only  going  in  now 


MARY    GOFFE    CASE.  18^ 

and  then  to  look  to  the  children.  At  five-a-clock  she 
went  to  a  neighbor's  house,  and  knocked  at  the  door; 
but  they  would  not  rise.  At  six  she  went  again;  then 
they  rose,  and  let  her  in.  She  related  to  them  all  that 
had  pass'd:  they  would  persuade  her  she  was  mistaken 
or  dreamt.  But  she  confidently  affirmed,  *If  ever  I 
saw  her  in  all  my  life,  I  saw  her  this  night.' 

"  One  of  those  to  whom  she  made  the  relation  (Mary, 
the  wife  of  John  Sweet)  had  a  messenger  came  from 
Mailing  that  forenoon,  to  let  her  know  her  neighbor 
Goffe  was  dying,  and  desired  to  speak  with  her.  She 
went  over,  the  same  day,  and  found  her  just  departing. 
The  mother,  among  other  discourse,  related  to  her  how 
much  her  daughter  had  long'd  to  see  the  children,  and 
said  she  had  seen  them.  This  brought  to  Mrs  Sweet's 
mind  what  the  nurse  had  told  her  that  morning;  for 
till  then  she  had  not  thought  to  mention  it,  but  disguised 
it,  rather,  as  the  woman's  disturbed  imagination. 

"  The  substance  of  this  I  had  related  to  me  by  John 
Carpenter;  the  father  of  the  deceased,  the  next  day  after 
her  burial,  July  the  second*,  I  fully  discoursed  the 
matter  with  the  nurse  and  two  neighbors  to  whose  house 
she  went  that  morning.  Two  days  after,  I  had  i^  from 
the  mother,  the  minister  that  was  with  her  in  the  even- 
ing, and  the  woman  who  sat  up  with  her  that  last  night. 
They  all  agree  in  the  same  story,  and  every  one  helps 
to  strengthen  the  other's  testimony.  They  appear  to 
be  sober,  intelligent  persons,  far  enough  off  from  de- 
signing to  impose  a  cheat  upon  the  world,  or  to  manage 
a  lyS;  and  what  temptation  they  could  lye  under  for  -^o 
doing,  I  cannot  conceive. 

''Sir,  that  God  would  bless  your  pious  endeavors  for 
the  conviction  of  Atheists  and  Sadduces,  and  the  pro- 
moting of  true  religion  and  godliness,  and  that  this 
narrative  may  conduce  somewhat  towards  the  further- 


190  WHAT   DOUBTERS    MAY   SAY. 

ing  of  that  gfeat  work,  is  the  hearty  desire  and  prayer 
of 

"Your  most  faithful  friend 

"And  humble  servant, 
"  Tho.  Tilson,  Minister  of  Aylesford, 

nigh  Maidstone,  in  Kent. 

"  Atlesford,  July  6,  1691." 

This  story,  simply  and  touchingly  told,  is  a  narrative  of 
events  alleged  to  have  occurred  in  the  same  year  in  which 
Baxter's  work  .was  published, — to  wit,  in  1691;  related 
by  a  clergyman  of  the  vicinity,  writing  of  circumstances 
all  of  which  had  transpired  within  five  weeks  of  the 
day  on  which  he  wrote,  and  most  of  which  he  had  verified 
within  five  days  of  the  date  of  his  letter, — namely,  on 
the  2d  and  4th  of  July,  1691.  The  names  and  residences 
of  all  the  witnesses  are  given,  and  the  exact  time  and 
place  of  the  occurrences  to  which  they  testify.  It  would 
be  difficult  to  find  any  narrative  of  that  day  better  attested. 

The  exception  which  doubters  will  take  to  it  is  not, 
probably,  that  the  witnesses  conspired  to  put  forth  a 
falsehood,  for  that  is  incredible;  but  that  the  dying 
mother,  inspired  with  preternatural  strength  by  the 
earnest  longing  after  her  children,  had  actually  arisen 
during  the  night  between  the  8d  and  4th  of  June,  had 
found  her  way  from  West  Mulling  to  Eochester,  entered 
her  dwelling  and  seen  her  children,  and  then  returned, 
before  morning,  to  her  father's  house;  that  Mrs.  Turner, 
as  sick-nurses  will,  had  fallen  asleep,  and,  even  if  she 
did  awake  and  miss  her  patient  before  her  return^  had 
refrained  from  saying  a  M'ord  about  it,  lest  she  might 
be  taxed  with  neglect  of  duty.  And,  in  support  of  such 
a  hypothesis,  skepticism  might  quote  this  anecdote,  re- 
lated by  Sir  Walter  Scott.* 

*  "Letters  ofi  Demonology  and  Witchcraft,"  by  Sir  Walter  Scott,  Bart,  2& 
ed.,  1857,  pp.  371  to  374. 


THE   PLYMOUTH   CLUB.  Id) 

A  philosophical  club  at  Plymouth  were  wOnt  to  hold 
their  meetings,  during  the  summer  months,  in  a  cav^ 
by  the  sea-shore,  and  at  other  times  in  a  summer-house 
standing  in  the  garden  of  a  tavern,  to  the  door  of  which 
garden  some  of  the  members,  living  adjacent,  had  pri- 
vate pass-keys.  The  members  of  the  club  presided 
alternately.  On  one  occasion  the  president  of  the  even- 
ing was  ill, — reported  to  be  on  his  death-bed;  but,  from 
respect,  his  usual  chair  was  left  vacant.  Suddenly,  while 
the  members  were  conversing  about  him,  the  door  opened, 
and  the  appearance  of  the  president  entered  the  room, 
wearing  a  white  wrapper  and  night-cap,  and  presenting 
the  aspect  of  death,  took  the  vacant  place,  lifted  an 
empty  glass  to  his  lips,  bowed  to  the  company,  replaced 
his  glass,  and  stalked  out  of  the  room.  The  appalled 
company,  after  talking  over  the  matter,  dispatched  two 
of  their  number  to  ascertain  the  condition  of  their  presi- 
dent. When  they  returned  with  the  frightful  intelli- 
gence that  he  had  just  expired,  the  members,  fearing 
ridicule,  agreed  that  they  would  remain  silent  on  the 
subject. 

Some  years  afterward,  the  old  woman  who  had  acted 
as  sick-nurse  to  the  deceased  member,  being  on  her 
death-bed,  confessed  to  her  physician,  who  happened  to 
be  one  of  the  club,  that,  during  her  sleep,  the  patient, 
who  had  been  delirious,  awoke  and  lefl  the  apartment; 
that,  on  herself  awaking,  she  hurried  out  of  the  house 
in  search  of  him,  met  him  returning,  and  replaced  him 
in  bed,  where  he  immediately  died.  Fearing  blame  for 
her  carelessness,  she  had  refrained  from  saying  any  thing 
of  the  matter. 

Scott,  in  quoting  this  and  a  few  other  simple  explana- 
tions of  what  might  seem  extraordinary  occurrences, 
remarks,  that  "to  know  what  has  been  discovered  in 
many  cases,  gives  us  the  assurance  of  the  ruling  cause 


192  WE    MUST   TAKE   TROUBLE, 

in  all."*  Nothing  can  be  more  illogical.  It  is  a  trouble- 
some thing  to  get  at  the  truth;  but  if  we  desire  to  get 
at  it  we  must  take  the  trouble.  If  it  be  a  tedious  pro- 
cess, it  is  the  only  safe  one,  to  test  each  example  by  evi- 
dence sought  and  sifted  (as  the  diplomatic  phrase  is) 
ad  hoc.  If,  because  we  detect  imposture  in  a  single  case, 
we  slur  over  twenty  others  as  equally  unreliable,  we  are 
acting  no  whit  more  wisely  than  he  who,  having  re- 
ceived in  a  certain  town  a  bad  dollar,  presently  con- 
cludes that  none  but  counterfeits  are  to  be  met  with 
there.  It  ought  to  make  him  more  careful  in  examining 
the  next  coin  he  receives ;  nothing  more.  And  so  we, 
knowing  that  in  some  cases,  as  in  this  of  the  Plymouth 
club,  appearances  may  deceive,  should  be  upon  our  guard 
against  such  deceit, — not  conclude  that  in  every  analo- 
gous example  the  same  or  similar  explanation  will 
serve. 

Will  it  serve  in  the  Mary  Goffe  case?  The  distance 
between  her  father's  house  and  her  own  was  nine  miles. 
Three  hours  to  go  and  three  to  return,  six  hours  in  all, 
— say  from  eleven  till  five  o'clock, — would  have  been 
required  to  travel  it  by  a  person  in  good  health,  walk- 
ing, without  stopping,  at  an  ordinary  pace.  One  can 
believe,  as  in  the  Plymouth  example,  that  a  patient,  in 
delirium,  may,  very  shortly  before  his  death,  walk  a  few 
hundred  yards.  But  is  it  credible  that  a  dying  woman, 
so  weak  that  her  friends  considered  her  unfit  to  be 
taken  out  of  her  bed,  should  walk  eighteen  miles  un- 
aided and  alone?  The  nurse  declares  that  her  patient 
fell  into  a  trance  between  one  and  two  o'clock,  and  that 
she  put  her  hand  upon  her  mouth  and  nostrils,  but  could 
perceive  no  breath.  Suppose  this  a  falsehood,  invented 
to  shelter  negligence:  can  we  imagine  that,  after  a  visit 
from  a  clergyman  at  ten,  the  nurse,  attending  a  person 

*  **  Demanologi/  and  Witchcraft"  p.  367. 


IF    WE    WILL   GET   AT   TEUTH.  198 

hourly  expected  to  die,  should  fall  asleep  before  eleven 
o'clock,  and  not  wake  till  after  five,  or  that,  if  she  did 
wake  and  find  her  patient  gone,  she  would  not  alarm 
the  house  ?  But  grant  all  these  extreme  improbabilities. 
Can  we  believe  that  the  father  and  mother  of  a  dyinQ 
woman  would  both  abandon  her  on  the  last  night  of  her 
life  for  more  than  six  hours  ?  Or  can  we  suppose,  under 
such  circumstances,  that  the  patient  could  issue  from 
her  chamber  and  the  house  before  eleven  o'clock,  and 
return  to  it  after  five,  unseen  by  any  one,  either  in  going 
or  returning  ? 

Nor  are  these  the  only  difficulties.  Mrs.  Goffe  herself 
declared,  next  morning,  that  it  was  in  dream  only  she 
had  seen  her  children.  And  if  this  was  not  true,  and 
if  she  actually  walked  to  Eochester,  is  it  credible  that 
she  would  but  look,  in  silence,  for  a  few  minutes,  on  her 
sleeping  babes,  and  then,  quitting  them  without  even 
a  word  of  farewell,  recommence  the  weary  way  to  her 
father's  house?  When  she  so  earnestly  begged  her 
husband  to  hire  a  horse,  what  was  the  argument  with 
which  she  urged  her  request?  "She  must  go  home, 
and  die  with  the  children." 

I  submit  to  the  judgment  of  the  reader  these  con- 
siderations. Let  him  give  to  them  the  weight  to  which 
he  may  deem  them  entitled.  But  if,  finally,  he  incline 
to  the  theory  of  a  nocturnal  journey  by  the  patient, 
then  1  beg  of  him  to  consider  in  what  manner  he  will 
dispose  of  the  parallel  case, — that  of  the  Rev.  Mr.  Wil- 
kins,  where  the  distance  between  mother  and  son  was  a 
hundred  miles? 

Abercrombie,  admitting  the  facts  of  this  latter  case 
as  Wilkins  states  them,  merely  says,  "This  singular 
dream  must  have  originated  in  some  strong  mental  im- 
pression which  had  been  made  on  both  individuals 
about  the  same  time;  and  to  have  traced  the  source  of 

it  w^ould  have  been  a  subject  of  great  interest." 

n'  17 


IW  abbrcrombie's  opinion. 

I  canijot  suppose  that  Abercrombie  here  means  a 
mental  impression  accidentally  made  on  mother  and  son 
at  the  same  time.  He  was  too  good  a  logician  not  to 
know  whither  such  a  doctrine  as  that  would  lead.  If 
we  are  to  imagine  all  the  details  adduced,  as  the  fruitless 
attempt  to  enter  the  front  door,  the  entering  by  the 
back  door,  the  going  up-stairs  and  passing  on  to  the 
paternal  bedchamber,  the  exact  terms  of  the  question, 
the  precise  words  of  the  reply,  finally,  the  cessation  of 
the  dream  or  vision  by  mother  and  son  at  the  very 
same  point, — if,  I  say,  we  are  to  permit  ourselves  to  in- 
terpret coincidences  so  numerous  and  minutely  par- 
ticular as  these  to  be  the  mere  effect  of  chance,  where 
will  our  skepticism  stop?  Perhaps  not  until  we  shall 
have  persuaded  ourselves,  also,  that  this  world,  with 
all  it  contains,  is  but  the  result  of  a  fortuitous  com- 
bination. 

But  if,  as  is  doubtless  the  case.  Dr.  Abercrombie 
meant  to  intimate  that  this  simultaneous  impression 
on  two  distant  minds  must  have  occurred  in  accordance 
with  some  yet  undiscovered  psychological  law,  which  it 
would  be  interesting  to  trace  out,  we  may  well  agree 
with  him  in  opinion. 

It  does  not  appear,  however,  that  he  regarded  th»> 
incident  in  any  other  light  than  as  an  example  of  coin- 
ciding and  synchronous  dreams.  Whether  that  be  the 
true  hypothesis  may  be  questioned.  In  another  chap- 
ter* will  be  adduced  such  evidence  as  1  have  obtained 
that  the  appearance  of  a  living  person  at  a  greater  or 
less  distance  from  w^here  that  person  actually  is,  and 
perhaps  usually  where  the  thoughts  or  affections  of  that 
person  may  be  supposed,  at  the  moment,  to  be  concen- 
trated, is  a  phenomenon  of  not  infrequent  occurrence. 
If  it  be  admitted,  it  may  furnish  the  true  explanation 

♦  S«e  Book  IV.  chap.  ii.,o»  **  Appariti<m»  of  the  Living." 


AN    OBSCURE    EXPLANATION.  195 

of  the  Wilkins  dream,  the  Goffe  dream,  and  others 
similar  in  character. 

The  ingenious  author  of  the  "Philosophy  of  Mys- 
terious Agents,"  who  eschews  every  thing  like  Spiritual- 
ism, in  dealing  with  the  Wilkins  narrative,  of  which  he 
admits  the  authenticity,  says,  "It  certainly  shows  a 
strange  and  hitherto  unknown  physical  agent  in  or  by 
which  the  brain  may  act  even  at  a  great  distance,  and 
produce  physical  results  perfectly  representing  the  cere- 
bral action  when  the  mind's  controlling  power  is  sus- 
pended."* 

If  this,  as  may  happen,  should  seem  to  the  reader 
somewhat  obscure,  let  him,  to  aid  his  conceptions,  take 
another  paragraph.  After  copying  the  story  itself,  Mr. 
Rogers  subjoins,  "  This  is  easily  accounted  for  by  the 
method  we  are  considering  this  class  of  phenomena; 
and  we  can  see  no  other  in  which  there  are  not  insupera- 
ble diflSculties.  In  this  case  we  have  again  the  condi- 
tion required  for  the  play  of  mundane  powers  in  refer- 
ence to  the  brain;  and  that  in  which  the  brain,  as  a 
point,  being  irritated,  may  act,  and  by  the  mundane 
agency  represent  its  action  (as  in  this  case)  fifty  miles 
or  more  distant."f 

It  does  not  strike  me  that  by  this  method  of  Mr. 
Rogers  the  strange  phenomenon  we  have  been  consider- 
ing is,  as  he  thinks,  easily  accounted  for.  How  does  he 
account  for  it?  The  doctrine  of  chance,  he  sees,  is 
quite  untenable.  The  doctrine  of  Spiritualism  he  re- 
pudiates. To  avoid  both,  he  suggests  that  the  brain  oi 
the  son,  in  Devonshire,  being  in  activity  during  the  sus- 
pended volition  incident  to  sleep,  represented  its  action 
Dn  the  brain  of  the  mother,  a  hundred   miles  off,  in 


*  '^  Philosophy  of  Mysterious  Agents,  Human  and  Mundane  "hj  E.  C.  Rogers, 
Boston,  1853,  p.  283. 
t  ITori  eil^  pp.  284,  286. 


196     REPRESENTATION  OF  CEREBRAL  ACTION. 

Gloucestershire;  and  that  this  represented  action  wa* 
due  to  a  mundane  agency  strange  and  unknown. 

To  say  that  the  two  minds  were,  in  some  mode  or 
other,  placed  in  relation,  is  only  an  admission  that  the 
coincidence  of  sensations  and  ideas  in  both  was  not 
fortuitous.  If,  as  we  may  freely  further  admit,  the 
agency  be,  as  Mr.  Eogers  alleges,  strange  and  unknown, 
why  assume  it  to  be  physical  ?  And  by  such  assump-  ^ 
tion  do  we  account  for  the  phenomenon, — not  to  say 
easily,  but  at  all?  Have  we  done  more  than  employ 
vague  words? — and  words,  vague  as  they  are,  which 
we  do  not  seem  justified  in  employing?  What  do  we 
know  about  a  brain,  irritated,  acting  physically  at  a 
hundred  miles'  distance  ?  What  do  we  mean  by  such  a 
brain  representing  its  action,  at  that  distance,  on  another? 
What  sort  of  mundane  agency  can  we  imagine  as  the 
instrument  of  such  action  ?  And  if  we  are  to  esteem  a 
mere  physical  agent  capable  of  thus  connecting,  without 
regard  to  distance,  mind  with  mind,  what  need  of  any 
hypothetical  soul  or  spirit  to  account  for  the  entire 
wondrous  range  of  mental  phenomena  ? 

Here  again  it  behooves  us  to  ask  whither,  in  an 
attempt  to  escape  the  hypothesis  of  spiritual  agency, 
our  steps  are  invited  ?  To  the  confines,  it  would  seem, 
of  materialism. 

As  the  class  of  phenomena  we  have  been  here  examin 
ing  will  usually  be  regarded  as  among  the  least  credible 
of  those  connected  with  the  subject  of  dreaming,  I  may 
state  that  the  above  are  not  the  only  examples  on  re- 
cord. Kemer,  in  his  "  Seeress  of  Prevorst,"  furnishes 
one,  attested  by  himself  and  by  a  physician  attending 
the  seeress's  father.*      Sinclair  records  another  ;f  but 

*  *^Die  Seherin  von  Prevomt,"  by  Justinus  Kerner,  4th  edition,  Stuttgart, 
1846,  pp.  132  to  134. 

f  In  his  "  Satan's  Invisible  World  Discovered,"  Edinburgh,  1789.     It  il 


PRESCIENCE   IN   DREAMS.  197 

how  good  the  anthority  is  in  this  last  case  1  am  not  ablo 
to  say. 

An  important  inquiry  remains  unbroached.  Are 
there  any  reliable  cases  presenting,  or  seeming  to  pre- 
Bent,  evidence  that  the  faculty  of  prescience  in  dreams 
is  an  actual  phenomenon,  and  that  this  faculty  is  some- 
times enjoyed,  as  clairvoyance  is  said  to  be,  specially  by 
certain  persons?  Are  there — as  the  phrase  has  been 
used  in  regard  to  the  alleged  second-sight  of  the  Scot- 
tish Highlands — seers,  thus  habitually  gifted  ? 

Distinguished  men  have  asserted  that  there  are; 
Goethe,  for  example,  in  regard  to  his  maternal  grand« 
father.     I  translate  from  his  Autobiography. 

THE  GRANDFATHER  OF  GOETHE. 

"  But  what  still  increased  the  veneration  with  which 
we  regarded  this  excellent  old  man  was  the  conviction 
that  he  possessed  the  gift  of  prophecy,  especially  in  re- 
gard to  matters  that  concerned  him  and  his.  It  is  true 
that  he  confided  the  full  knowledge  and  particulars  of 
this  faculty  to  no  one  except  our  grandmother ;  yet  we 
children  knew  well  enough  that  he  was  often  informed, 
in  remarkable  dreams,  of  things  that  were  to  happen.  For 
example,  he  assured  his  wife,  at  a  time  when  he  was  still 
one  of  the  youngest  magistrates,  that  at  the  very  next 
vacancy  he  would  be  appointed  to  a  seat  on  the  board  of 
aldermen.  And  when,  very  soon  after,  one  of  the  alder- 
men was  struck  with  a  fatal  stroke  of  apoplexy,  he 
ordered  that,  on  the  day  when  the  choice  was  to  be 
made  by  lot,  the  house  should  be  arranged  and  every 
thing  prepared  to  receive  the  guests  coming  to  congra- 
tulate him  on  his  elevation.  And,  sure  enough,  it  was 
for  hira  that  was  drawn  the  golden  ball  which  decides  the 

the  story  of  Sir  George  Horton,  who  is  stated  to  have  dreamel  that  he  inter- 
fered to  prevent  his  two  sons  fighting  a  duel,  and  actually  to  have  appeared 
to  them,  and  prevented  it,  sixty  miles  off,  at  the  same  time. 
17* 


198         THE  GRANDFATHER  OF  GOETHE. 

choice  of  aldermen  in  Frankfort.  The  dream  which 
foreshadowed  to  him  this  event  he  confided  to  his  wife, 
as  follows.  He  found  himself  in  session  with  his  col- 
leagues, and  every  thing  was  going  on  as  usual,  when 
an  alderman  (the  same  who  afterward  died)  descended 
from  his  seat,  came  to  my  grandfather,  politely  begged 
him  to  take  his  place,  and  then  left  the  chamber.  Some- 
thing similar  happened  on  occasion  of  the  provost's 
death.  It  was  usual  in  such  case  to  make  great  haste 
to  fill  the  vacancy,  seeing  that  there  was  always  ground 
to  fear  that  the  emperor,  who  used  to  nominate  the 
provost,  would  some  day  or  other  re-assert  his  ancient 
privilege.  On  this  particular  occasion  the  sheriff  re- 
ceived orders  at  midnight  to  call  an  extra  session  for 
next  morning.  When,  in  his  rounds,  this  officer  reached 
my  grandfather's  house,  he  begged  for  another  bit  of 
candle,  to  replace  that  which  had  just  burned  down  in 
his  lantern.  '  Give  him  a  whole  candle,'  said  my  grand- 
father to  the  women  :  Mt  is  for  me  he  is  taking  all  this 
trouble.'  The  event  justified  his  words.  He  was  actu- 
ally chosen  provost.  And  it  is  worthy  of  notice  that, 
the  person  who  drew  in  his  stead  having  the  third  and 
last  chance,  the  two  silver  balls  were  drawn  first,  and 
thus  the  golden  one  remained  for  him  at  the  bottom  of 
the  bag. 

"  His  dreams  were  matter-of-fact,  simple,  and  without 
a  trace  of  the  fantastic  or  the  superstitious,  so  far,  at 
least,  as  they  ever  became  known  to  us.  I  recollect, 
too,  that  when,  as  a  boy,  I  used  to  look  over  his  books  and 
papers,  I  often  found,  mixed  up  with  memoranda  about 
gardening,  such  sentences  as  these: — 'Last  night  *  *  * 
came  to  me  and  told  me  *  *  *,' — the  name  and  the  cir- 
cumstance being  written  in  cipher.  Or,  again,  it  ran 
thus  : — '  Last  night  I  saw  *  *  *,' — the  rest  in  characters 
unintelligible  to  me.  It  is  further  remarkable,  in  this 
connection,  that  certain  persons  who    had   never  pos- 


THE    VISIT    FORETOLD.  199 

aessed  any  extraordinary  power  sometimes  acquired  it, 
for  the  time-being,  when  they  remained  near  him;  for 
example,  the  faculty  of  presentiment,  by  visible  signs,  in 
cases  of  sickness  or  death  occurring  at  the  time,  but  at 
A  distance.  Yet  none  either  of  his  children  or  of  his 
grandchildren  inherited  this  peculiarity."* 

The  particular  examples  here  cited  may  be  explained 
away;  but  it  is  evident  that  Goethe,  who  had  the  best 
means  of  knowing,  regarded  the  proofs  that  his  grand- 
father really  was  endowed  with  this  prophetic  instinct 
to  be  conclusive. 

Macario  mentions  a  similar  case,  the  evidence  for 
which  seems  unquestionable.  I  translate  from  his  work 
on  Sleep. 

THE  VISIT  FORETOLD. 

"Here  is  a  fact  which  occurred  in  my  own  family, 
and  for  the  authenticity  of  which  I  vouch.  Madame 
Macario  set  out,  on  the  6th  of  July,  1854,  for  Bourbon 
I'Archambault,  for  the  benefit  of  the  waters  there,  in  a 
rheumatic    affection.      One   of   her  cousins,   Monsieur 

O ,who  inhabits  Moulins,  and  who  habitually  dreams 

of  any  thing  extraordinary  that  is  to  happen  to  him, 
had,  the  night  before  my  wife  set  out,  the  following 
dream.  He  thought  he  saw  Madame  Macario,  accom- 
panied by  her  little  daughter,  take  the  railroad-cars,  to 
commence  her  journey  to  the  Bourbon  baths.  When  ho 
awoke,  he  bade  his  wife  prepare  to  receive  two  cousins 
with  whom  she  was  yet  unacquainted.  They  would 
arrive,  he  told  her,  that  day  at  Moulins,  and  would 
set  out  in  the  evening  for  Bourbon.  <  They  will  surely 
not  fail,'  he  added,  '  to  pay  us  a  visit.'  In  effect,  my 
wife  and  daughter  did  arrive  at  Moulins ;  but,  as  the 

•  "  Atu  tneinem  Leben,"  bj  J.  W.  von  Goethe,  Stuttgart,  1863,  vol.  L  pp. 
11  to  43. 


200  THE    VISIT    FORETOLD. 

weather  was  very  bad,  the  rain  falling  in  torrents,  they 
stopped  at  the  house  of  a  friend  near  the  railroad-sta- 
tion, and,  their  time  being  short,  did  not  visit  their 
cousin,  who  lived  in  a  distant  quarter  of  the  town.  He, 
however,  was  not  discouraged.  *  Perhaps  it  may  be 
to-morrow,'  he  said.  But  the  next  day  came,  and  no 
one  appeared.  Being  thoroughly  persuaded,  neverthe- 
less, on  account  of  his  experience  in  finding  such  dreams 
come  true,  that  his  cousins  had  arrived,  he  went  to  the 
office  of  the  dihgence  that  runs  from  Moulins  to  Bourbon, 
to  inquire  if  a  lady,  accompanied  by  her  daughter,  (de- 
scribing them,)  had  not  set  out  the  evening  before  for 
Bourbon.  They  replied  in  the  affirmative.  He  then 
asked  where  that  lady  had  put  up  at  Moulins,  went  to 
the  house,  and  there  ascertained  that  all  the  particulars 
of  his  dream  were  exactly  true.     In  conclusion,  I  may 

be   allowed  to  remark   that   Monsieur  O had  no 

knowledge  whatever  of  the  illness  nor  of  the  projected 
journey  of  Madame  Macario,  whom  he  had  not  seen  for 
several  years."* 

The  remarkable  feature  in  the  above  is  the  confideoce 
of  Monsieur  O in  the  presage  of  his  dream,  indi- 
cating that  he  had  good  reason  to  trust  in  similar  intima- 

*"Du  Sommeil,  de»  Bivea,  et  du  Somnambuliame,"  par  M.  Maoario,  p.  82. 
The  incident  reminds  one  of  ScoU'b  lines,  in  which,  in  the  "  Lady  cf  th« 
Lake/'  Ellen  addresses  Fitz-James : — 

As  far  as  yesternight 

Old  Allan-Bane  foretold  your  plight; 
A  gray-haired  sire,  whose  look  intent 
Was  on  the  visioned  future  bent. 
He  saw  your  steed,  a  dappled  gray. 
Lie  dead  beneath  the  birchen  way ; 
Painted  exact  your  form  and  mien. 
Your  hunting-suit  of  Lincoln  green 
«  «  «  «  « 

And  bade  that  all  should  ready  bo 
To  grace  a  guest  of  fair  degree. 


THE    INDIAN    MUTINY.  20'' 

tions.  For  the  rest,  it  is  difficult  to  call  in  question  the 
truth  or  the  accuracy  of  an  observation  as  to  which  the 
evidence  is  so  direct  and  the  authority  so  respectable. 

Considering  the  extraordinary  character  of  this  alleged 
faculty  of  foresight,  or  prophetic  instinct,  in  dreams,  I 
esteem  myself  fortunate  in  being  able  to  adduce  several 
other  well-authenticated  narratives  directly  bearing  upon 
it.  It  does  not  appear,  however,  that  in  these  cases,  as 
in  the  preceding,  the  dreamers  were  habitual  seers. 

In  the  first,  a  highly  improbable  event  was  fore- 
shadowed, with  distinctness,  a  year  before  it  occurred. 
I  had  the  narrative  in  writing  from  a  lady,  whose  name, 
if  it  were  proper  for  me  to  give  it,  would  be  to  the 
public  an  all-sufficient  voucher  for  the  truth  of  the  story. 

THE  INDIAN  MUTINY. 

"  Mrs.  Torrens,  the  widow  of  General  Torrens,  now 
■residing  at  Southsea,  near  Portsmouth,  about  a  year 
previous  to  the  Indian  mutiny  dreamed  that  she  saw 
her  daughter,  Mrs.  Hayes,  and  that  daughter's  husband, 
Captain  Hayes,  attacked  by  sepoys;  and  a  frightful 
murderous  struggle  ensued,  in  which  Captain  Hayes 
was  killed. 

"She  wrote  instantly  to  entreat  that  her  daughter 
and  the  children  would  presently  come  home ;  and,  in 
consequence  of  her  extreme  importunity,  her  grand- 
children arrived  by  the  following  ship.  This  was  before 
an  ^dea  was  entertained  of  the  mutiny.  I  have  seen 
these  children  often,  in  safety,  at  Southsea.  Mrs.  Hayes 
remained  with  her  husband,  and  suffered  the  whole 
horrors  of  the  siege  at  Lucknow,  where  Captain  Hayes 
fell  by  the  hands  of  sepoys, — who  first  put  out  his  eyes, 
and  then  killed  him." 

I  shall  now  present  an  anecdote,  as  directly  authenti- 
cated as  either  of  the  foregoing,  which  I  find  in  the  Ap- 


202  BELL  AND   STEPHENSON. 

pendex  to  Dr.  Binns'  "Anatomy  of  Sleep."*  It  was 
communicated  to  the  author  by  the  Hon.  Mr.  Talbot, 
father  of  the  present  Countess  of  Shrewsbury,  and  is 
given  in  his  own  words,  and  under  his  own  signature, 
(the  title  only  added  by  me,)  as  follows : — 

BELL  AND  STEPHENSON. 

"In  the  year  1768,  my  father,  Matthew  Talbot,  of 
Castle  Talbot,  county  Wexford,  was  much  surprised  at 
the  recurrence  of  a  dream  three  several  times  during 
the  same  night,  which  caused  him  to  repeat  the  whole 
circumstance  to  his  lady  the  next  morning.  He  dreamed 
that  he  had  arisen  as  usual,  and  descended  to  his  library, 
the  morning  being  hazy.  He  then  seated  himself  at  his 
secretoire  to  write;  when,  happening  to  look  up  a  long 
avenue  of  trees  opposite  the  window,  he  perceived  a  man 
in  a  blue  jacket,  mounted  on  a  white  horse,  coming  to- 
ward the  hous«.  My  father  arose,  and  opened  the 
window :  the  man,  advancing,  presented  him  with  a  roll 
of  papers,  and  told  him  they  were  invoices  of  a  vessel 
that  had  been  wrecked  and  had  drifted  in  during  the 
night  on  his  son-in-law's  (Lord  Mount  Morris's)  estate, 
hard  by,  and  signed  ^Bell  and  Stephenson.' 

"  My  father's  attention  was  called  to  the  dream  only 
from  its  frequent  recurrence  j  but  when  he  found  him- 
self seated  at  his  desk  on  the  misty  morning,  and  beheld 
the  identical  person  whom  he  had  seen  in  his  dream,  in 
the  blue  coat,  riding  on  a  gray  horse,  he  felt  surprised, 
and,  opening  the  window,  waited  the  man's  approach 
He  immediately  rode  up,  and,  drawing  from  his  pocket  a 
packet  of  papers,  gave  them  to  my  father,  stating  that 
they  were  invoices  belonging  to  an  American  vessel 
which  had  been  wrecked  and  drifted  upon  his  lordship's 
estate ;  that  there  was  no  person  on  board  to  lay  claim 

»  "The  Anatomy  of  Sleep"  by  Edward  Binns,  M.D.,  2d  ed.  Londor,  1846, 
pp.  459,  460. 


8T£PHEN80N   AND   BELL.  203 

to  the  wreck  j  but  that  the  invoices  were  signed  ^Ste- 
phenson  and  BelV 

"  I  assure  you,  my  dear  sir,  that  the  above  actually 
occurred,  and  is  most  faithfully  given  ]  but  it  is  not  more 
extraordinary  than  other  examples  of  the  prophetic 
powers  of  the  mind  or  soul  during  sleep,  which  I  have 
frequently  heard  related. 

"  Yours,  most  faithfully, 

"  William  Talbot. 

"  Al<TOii  Towers,  Octol  er  23,  1842." 

In  the  above  we  find  the  same  strange  element  of 
slight  inaccuracy  mixed  with  marvelous  coincidence  ol 
detail  already  several  times  noticed.  The  man  with  his 
blue  coat;  the  white  or  gray  horse;  the  vessel  wrecked 
on  Lord  Mount  Morris's  estate ;  the  roll  of  invoices  pre- 
sented,— all  exhibit  complete  correspondence  between 
the  foreshadowing  dream  and  the  actual  occurrences. 
The  names  on  the  invoices,  too,  correspond;  but  the 
order  in  which  they  stand  is  reversed  :  in  the  dream, 
"Bell  and  Stephenson;"  on  the  invoices  themselves, 
"  Stephenson  and  Bell." 

Lest  I  should  weary  the  reader  by  too  much  extend- 
ing this  chapter,  and  by  too  great  an  accumulation  of  ex- 
amples, which  might  (as  to  many  of  the  points  noticed) 
be  multiplied  without  limit,  while  perhaps  those  cited 
may  suffice  as  a  fair  specimen  of  the  whole,  I  shall 
adduce  but  one  more, — an  example  quite  as  remarkable 
as  any  of  the  preceding,  of  prevision  in  dream ;  a  nar- 
rative which  was  verified  by  one  of  the  most  accredited 
writers  on  intellectual  philosophy,  (for  such  Dr.  Aber- 
crombie  must  be  admitted  to  be,)  and  for  which,  in 
addition,  I  have  obtained  an  important  voucher.  Dr. 
Abercrombie,  after  declaring  that  he  is  "enabled  to 
give  it  as  perfectly  authentic,"  relates  it  (without  tbo 
title  here  given)  in  these  words  ;— r 


20  i  CASE   VOUCHED   FOR   BY  ABERCROMBIE 

THE  NEGRO  SERVANT. 

"A  lady  dreamed  that  an  aged  female  relative  had 
been  murdered  by  a  black  servant;  and  the  dream  oc- 
curred more  than  once.*  She  was  then  so  much  im- 
pressed  by  it  that  she  went  to  the  house  of  the  lady  to 
whom  it  related,  and  prevailed  upon  a  gentleman 
to  watch  in  an  adjoining  room  during  the  following 
night.  About  three  o'clock  in  the  morning,  the  gentle- 
man, hearing  footsteps  on  the  stairs,  left  his  place  of 
concealment,  and  met  the  servant  carrying  up  a 
quantity  of  coals.  Being  questioned  as  to  where  ho 
was  going,  he  replied,  in  a  confused  and  hurried  manner, 
that  he  was  going  to  mend  his  mistress's  fire;  which, 
at  three  o'clock  in  the  morning,  in  the  middle  of  sum- 
mer, was  evidently  impossible ;  and,  on  further  investi- 
gation, a  strong  knife  was  found  concealed  beneath  the 
coals."! 

This  narrative,  remarkable  as  it  is,  is  not  given  m 
sufficient  detail.  It  does  not  intimate  whether  the 
lady  who  dreamed  knew  or  not,  at  the  time,  that  her 
aged  relative  had  a  negro  servant.  Nor  does  it  say 
any  thing  of  the  subsequent  conduct  and  fate  of  that 
servant.  Nor  does  it  furnish  the  names  of  the  par- 
ties. I  am,  fortunately,  enabled  to  supply  these  defi- 
ciencies. 

While  in  Edinburgh,  in  October,  1858,  I  had  occasion 
to  submit  this  chapter  to  a  lady, — the  daughter  of  a 
distinguished   statesman,  and   herself  well  known   by 

*  It  is  worthy  of  attention  that  many  of  these  remarkable  dreams  occur 
more  than  once,  as  if  (one  might  suppose)  to  produce  on  the  dreamer  the 
deeper  impression.  In  the  preceding  dream  by  Mr.  Talbot,  in  that  which 
disclosed  the  death  of  Percival,  in  Mrs.  Griffith's  warning  dream^  in  Alilsr* 
man  Clay's  dream,  and  others,  the  vision  was  thrice  repeated. 

f  "IntelUctual  Potoera,"  p.  214. 


AND    BY    A    CORRESPONDENT.  205 

numerous  and  successful  works, — who,  in  returning  it  to 
me,  kindly  appended  to  the  above  narrative  the  follow- 
ing note : — 

"  This  lady  was  Mrs.  Eutherford,  of  Egerton,  grand- 
aunt  of  Sir  Walter  Scott;  and  I  have  myself  heard  the 
story  from  the  family.  The  lady  who  dreamed  was  the 
daughter  of  Mr.  Eutherford,  then  absent  from  home.  On 
her  return,  she  was  astonished,  on  entering  her 
mother's  house,  to  meet  the  very  black  servant  whom 
she  had  seen  in  her  dream,  as  he  had  been  engaged 
during  her  absence.  This  man  was,  long  afterward, 
hung  for  murder;  and,  before  his  execution,  he  con- 
fessed that  he  had  intended  to  assassinate  Mrs.  Euther- 
ford." 

The  story,  with  this  attesting  voucher, — giving  the 
names  of  the  persons  referred  to,  and  supplying  par- 
ticulars which  greatly  add  to  the  value  of  the  illustra- 
tion,— is,  I  think,  the  very  strongest  example  of  pre- 
vision in  dream  I  ever  met  with.  Let  us  briefly 
scrutinize  it. 

In  the  first  place,  the  dream  indicated  two  particu- 
lars: the  one,  that  the  dreamer's  mother  would  be  mur- 
dered ;  the  other,  that  the  murder  would  be  committed 
by  a  negro.  Had  the  daughter  known  that  her  mother 
had  a  black  servant,  it  would  not  be  proper  to  regard 
these  as  separate  contingencies :  indeed,  something  in 
the  man's  manner  might  be  imagined  to  have  created 
suspicion,  and  so  given  shape  to  the  dream.  But  the 
daughter  did  not  know,  when  she  dreamed,  that  her 
mother  had  a  negro  servant.  She  was  astonished  to  meet 
him,  on  her  return  home.  This  is  one  of  the  strongest 
points  in  the  case;  for  it  precludes  all  argument  that 
the  negro's  concern  in  the  matter  was  naturally  sug- 
gested to  the  dreamer. 

Here,  then,  is  the  indication  in  dream  of  two  inde- 
pendent  specifications,    correctly  to    have   determined 


206  EXAMINATION   OF   THE 

either  of  which  would  have  been,  if  an  accident,  one 
of  which  the  mathematical  expectation  is  exceedingly 
Bmall.  In  the  quiet  of  domestic  life,  in  a  civilized 
country  and  a  respectable  rank,  a  deliberate  murder 
does  not  occur  to  one  out  of  millions  of  persons.  There 
were  millions  to  one,  then,  against  the  fortuitous  pre- 
dicting, in  the  case  of  a  particular  individual,  of  that 
single  event.  So,  again,  in  regard  to  the  other  specifi- 
cation. Negroes  are  rare  in  Scotland.  Had  the  dream 
merely  been  that  a  negro  would  commit  a  murder  in 
Edinburgh,  without  designating  the  murdered  person, 
how  difiicult  to  imagine,  in  case  the  event,  occurring 
within  a  few  days,  had  justified  the  prediction,  that 
such  fulfillment  was  purely  accidental !  But  when  there 
is  question  of  the  double  event,  the  mathematical  ex- 
pectation diminishes  till,  in  practice,  it  may  be  re- 
garded as  inappreciable.  The  chances  against  that 
double  event,  as  a  purely  fortuitous  occurrence,  are 
such  as  we  constantly  act  upon  in  daily  life  with  the 
same  assurance  as  upon  certainty  itself 

It  is  true  that,  with  that  inexplicable  dimness  of 
vision  which  seems  so  often  to  characterize  similar  phe- 
nomena, the  coming  event  is  indicated  only,  not  distinctly 
foretold.  The  daughter's  dream  was  that  her  mother 
had  been  murdered ;  and  this  had  not  taken  place.  The 
effect  upon  her  mind,  however,  aided  by  the  repetition 
of  her  dream,  was  such  as  to  cause  her  to  take  pre- 
cautions against  such  a  contingency  in  the  future;  and 
it  so  happened  that  on  the  very  night  the  precaution 
was  taken  the  attempt  was  made.  Here  is  a  third  coin- 
cidence. 

Was  this  all  accident?  Was  there  no  warning  given? 
Was  there  no  intention,  by  acting  in  dream  on  the 
daughter's  mind,  to  save  the  mother's  life?  If  we 
answer  these  questions  in  the  negative,  are  we  not 
discarding  the  clearest  rules  of  evidence  which,  at  tho 


KUTHERFORD   CASE.  '207 

bidding  of  re»ison.  we  have  adopted  for  the  government 
of  daily  life? 

But  if,  on  the  other  hand,  we  admit  that  there  was 
a  warning, — that  there  was  an  intention, — then,  who 
gave  that  warning?  And  what  intelligence  was  it  that 
intended? 

It  may  be  regarded  as  a  mere  cutting  of  the  Gordian 
knot  to  assume  the  theory  of  spiritual  guardianship.* 
Yet,  if  that  theory  be  rejected,  have  we  any  other  with 
which  to  supply  its  place? 

But,  without  touching  further  for  the  present  on  this 
latter  hj'pothesis,  let  us  here  pause  for  a  moment  to 
reflect  whither  the  actual  evidence  at  which  we  have  ar- 
rived— culled,  surel}^,  from  no  suspicious  source — is  lead- 
ing us  on  ?  If  we  assent  to  it, — if,  with  Abercrombie  and 
the  indorser  of  his  narrative  touching  Mrs.  Rutherford's 
negro  servant,  we  feel  compelled  to  admit  that  narra- 
tive as  a  fact, — shall  we  ignore  the  legitimate,  the 
unavoidable,  consequences?  Shall  we  continue,  with 
Macnish,  to  declare  that  the  belief  in  the  occasional 
power  of  dreams  to  give  us  an  insight  into  futurity  is 
"an  opinion  so  singularly  unphilosophical"  as  to  be 
unworthy  of  notice  ?  Shall  we  put  aside,  unexamined, 
with  contempt  or  derision,  instead  of  scrutinizing  with 
patient  care,  the  pretensions  of  certain  observers  as  to 
the  higher  phenomena  said  to  characterize  some  states 
of  somnambulism, — as  clearsight,  farsight,  and  this 
very  faculty  of  prevision?  If  we  are  to  speak  of  the 
singularly  unphilosophical,  such  a  proceeding  as  this 
would  surely  supply  a  remarkable  example  of  it. 

And  is  there  not  abundant  justification  for  the  re- 
mark heretofore  made,  that  it  behooves  us,  if  we 
would  obtain  a  comprehensive  view  of  this  subject,  to 


♦  See,  in  this  connection,  the  narratives  entitled  "  The  Rejected  SmUm" 
and  '*  How  Senator  Linn't  Life  ira«  <S'at;«c^ ;"  both  in  Book  V. 


208  DREAMS   RECORDED   IN    SCRIPTURE. 

study  all  the  various  hypnotic  states  in  their  connec- 
tion with  each  other?  Before  we  undertake  the  won- 
ders of  mesmerism,  let  us  dispose  of  the  greater  wonders 
of  sleep. 

Finally,  that  such  inquiry  should  be  slighted  is  the 
less  defensible,  seeing  that  it  occurs  in  Christian  coun- 
tries, where  the  Bible  is  read  and  its  teachings  vene- 
rated. But  if  there  be  one  doctrine  there  taught 
plainly,  unequivocally,  by  direct  allegation  and  by 
numerous  examples,  in  the  Old  Testament  as  in  the 
New,  it  is  the  same  which  has  prevailed,  as  Cicero 
reminds  us,*  in  every  nation,  whether  polished  and 
learned,  or  barbarous  and  unlettered;  the  doctrine, 
namely,  that  in  the  visions  of  the  night  men  occasion- 
ally receive  more  than  is  taught  them  throughout  all 
the  waking  vigilance  of  the  day. 

The  illustrations  of  such  a  doctrine  are  scattered  all 
over  the  Bible.  The  Old  Testament  especially  is  full 
of  them:  witness  the  dreams  of  Abimelech,  of  Pharaoh, 
of  Saul,  of  Solomon,  of  Nebuchadnezzar;  and,  again, 
of  Jacob,  of  Laban,  of  Daniel.  But,  passing  by  the  Old 
to  the  dreams  of  the  New  Testament,  we  find  that  upon 
certain  of  these  repose,  in  a  measure,  some  of  the  very 
articles  of  faith  cardinal  to  the  creed  of  the  orthodox 
church,  whether  Protestant  or  Catholic.  Such  are  the 
dreams  of  the  Wise  Men  of  the  East,  of  Joseph,  of  the 
w-ife  of  Pilate. 

It  is  very  true,  and  should  be  here  taken  into  ac- 
count, that  most  writers  who  deny  to  dreams  any  extra- 
ordinary or  prophetic  character  make  exception, 
directly  or  by  implication,  of  those  recorded  in  Scrip- 
ture. But  Scripture  itself  nowhere  authorizes  any 
such  distinction.  Elihu  announces  a  general  truth  in 
general  terms: — ''In   slumberings   upon  the  bed,  God 

*  "De  Vivinatione,"  lib.  i.  g^  1,  2,  and  3. 


ARE   ALL   DREAMS   UNTRUSTWORTHY?  209 

openeth  the  ears  of  men  and  sealeth  their  instruction." 
Shall  we  limit  this  to  the  men  of  any  particular  age? 
By  what  warrant?  By  a  similar  license,  can  we  not 
explain  away  any  text  whatever?  that,  for  instance, 
with  which  Elihu  closes  his  eloquent  remonstrance: — 
"  God  respecteth  not  any  that  are  wise  of  heart." 
Many  will  be  found  disregarding,  in  practice,  the  im- 
plied warning  against  presumptuous  self-sufficiency,  but 
t^ew  bold  enough  to  allege  that,  though  the  observation 
applied  to  the  self-wise  in  the  times  of  Job,  it  is  anti- 
quated and  inapplicable,  in  these  latter  days,  to  our- 
selves. 

If  we  would  not  be  found  thus  bold  in  casuistry, — if, 
in  connection  with  the  phenomena  here  briefly  and  im- 
perfectly examined,  we  accept  and  take  home  in  our 
own  case  the  lesson  embodied  in  Elihu's  words, — we  may 
be  induced  to  conclude  that  it  behooves  us  to  devote  more 
time  and  attention  to  an  important  and  neglected  sub- 
ject* than  men  have  hitherto  bestowed  upon  it,  before 
authoritatively  pronouncing,  as  to  all  modern  dreams 
whatever,  that  they  are  the  mere  purposeless  wanderings 
of  a  vagrant  imagination;  that  they  never  exhibit  an 
intelligence  which  exceeds  that  of  the  waking  sense; 
that  never,  under  any  circumstances,  do  they  disclose 
the  distant  or  foreshadow  the  future;  that  never,  in 
any  case,  do  they  warn  or  avert :  in  a  word,  that  all 
visions  of  the  night,  without  exception,  are  utterly 
inconsequent,  fantastic,  and  unreliable. 

*  Abercrombie  concludes  his  chapter  on  Dreaming  as  follows  : — "  The 
slight  outline  which  has  now  been  given  of  dreaming  may  serve  to  show 
that  the  subject  is  not  only  curious,  but  important.  It  appears  to  bo 
worthy  of  careful  investigation ;  and  there  is  much  reason  to  believe  that 
an  extensive  collection  of  authentic  facts,  carefully  analyzed,  would  unfold 
principles  of  very  great  interest  in  reference  to  the  philosophy  of  th« 
aental  powers." — *'  Intellectual  Powera,"  p.  224. 
0  18» 


BOOK  III. 

DISTURBANCES  POPULARLY  TERMED  HAUNTINGS. 
gHAPTEE  I. 

GENERAL   CHAEACTER  OP   THE   PHENOMENA. 

**ror  this  is  not  a  matter  of  to-day 
Or  yesterday,  but  hath  been  from  all  time; 
And  none  can  tell  us  whence  it  came,  or  how/* 

Sophocles. 

That  extraordinary  and  influential  movement,  com 
monly  denominated  spiritual,  which  has  overrun  these 
United  States,  and  has  spread  hence,  to  a  greater  or 
less  extent,  over  every  country  of  Europe,  had  its  origin 
in  a  phenomenon,  or  alleged  phenomenon,  of  the  charac- 
ter which  has  usually  been  termed  a  haunted  house. 

In  a  work  like  the  present,  then,  it  is  fitting  that  this 
class  of  phenomena,  slighted  and  derided  by  modern 
Sadducism  though  they  be,  should  have  place  as  worthy 
of  serious  examination. 

And  in  prosecuting  such  an  examination,  by  citing 
the  best-attested  examples,  the  fair  question  is  not, 
whether  in  these  each  minute  particular  is  critically 
exact; — for  what  history,  ancient  or  modern,  would 
endure  such  a  test  ? — but  whether,  in  a  general  way,  the 
narratives  bear  the  impress  of  truth;  whether  there  be 
sufficient  evidence  to  indicate  that  they  are  based  on  a 
substantial  realitj^.  In  such  an  inquiry,  let  us  take  with 
us  two  considerations:  remembering,  on  the  one  hand, 
210 


NO   PROOF   OP   GAUDY    SUPERNATURALI8M.  211 

that,  when  the  passions  of  wonder  and  fear  are  strongly 
excited,  men's  imaginations  are  prone  to  exaggerate; 
and,  on  the  other,  that,  as  elsewhere  set  forth,*  there 
are  no  collective  hallucinations. 

The  fair  question  is,  then,  whether,  even  if  this  haunt- 
ing of  houses  be  often  a  mere  popular  superstition,  there 
be  yet  no  actual  truth,  no  genuine  phenomena,  under- 
lying it. 

In  winnowing,  from  out  a  large  apocryphal  mass, 
the  comparatively  few  stories  of  this  class  which  come 
down  to  us  in  authentic  form,  vouched  for  by  respectable 
cotemporary  authority,  sustained  by  specifications  of 
time  and  place  and  person,  backed  sometimes  by  judicial 
oaths,  one  is  forcibly  struck  by  the  observation  that,  in 
thus  making  the  selection,  we  find  thrown  out  all  stories 
of  the  ghostly  school  of  horror,  all  skeleton  specters 
with  the  worms  creeping  in  and  out,  all  demons  with 
orthodox  horns  and  tail,  all  midnight  lights  burning 
blue,  with  other  similar  embellishments;  and  there 
remain  a  comparatively  sober  and  prosaic  set  of 
wonders, — inexplicable,  indeed,  by  any  known  physical 
agency,  but  shorn  of  that  gaudy  supernaturalism  in 
which  Anne  Eadcliffe  delighted,  and  which  Horace 
Walpole  scorned  not  to  employ. 

In  its  place,  however,  we  find  an  element  which  by 
some  may  be  considered  quite  as  startling  and  improbable. 
I  allude  to  the  mischievous,  boisterous,  and  freakish 
aspect  which  these  disturbances  occasionally  assume. 
So  accustomed  are  we  to  regard  all  spiritual  visitations, 
if  such  there  be,  as  not  serious  and  important  only,  but 
of  a  solemn  and  reverential  character,  that  our  natural 
or  acquired  repugnance  to  admit  the  reality  of  any 
phenomena  not  explicable  by  mundane  agency  is  greatly 

*  See  next  chapter,  where  the  distinctioD  is  made  between  illuaion  and 
hallucinatiou ;  the  one  based  on  a  reality,  the  other  a  mere  disease  of  tiae 
tenses. 


212  REMARKABLE   PHASE. 

increased  when  we  discover  in  them   mere  whim  and 
triviality. 

It  is  very  certain  that,  if  disturbances  of  the  character 
alluded  to  be  the  work  of  disembodied  spirits,  it  appears 
to  be  of  spirits  of  a  comparatively  inferior  order;  as 
imps,  we  might  say,  of  frolic  and  misrule ;  not  wicked, 
it  would  seem,  or,  if  wicked,  restrained  from  inflicting 
serious  injury,  but,  as  it  were,  tricksy  elves,  sprites  full 
of  pranks  and  levities, — a  sort  of  Pucks, — "esprits 
espiegles,"  as  the  French  phrase  it;  or  as  the  Germans, 
framing  an  epithet  expressly  for  this  supposed  class  of 
spirits,  have  expressed  it,  poltergeister. 

If  it  may  be  plausibly  argued  that  we  cannot  reason- 
ably imagine  spirits  revisiting  the  scenes  of  their  former 
existence  with  no  higher  aim,  for  no  nobler  purpose, 
than  these  narratives  disclose,  it  must  be  conceded  also, 
for  the  very  same  reason,  that  men  were  not  likely  to 
invent  stories  of  such  a  character  with  no  actual  founi» 
ation  whereupon  to  build.  Imagination,  once  at  work, 
would  not  restrict  itself  to  knockings,  and  scrapings,  and 
jerking  furniture  about,  and  teasing  children,  and 
similar  petty  annoyances.  It  would  conjure  up  some- 
thing more  impressive  and  mysterious. 

But  my  business  here  is  with  facts,  not  theories;  with 
what  we  find,  not  with  what,  according  to  our  present 
notions,  we  might  expect  to  find.  How  much  is  there 
in  nature,  which,  if  we  sat  down  beforehand  to  conjec- 
ture probabilities,  would  directly  belie  our  anticipations ! 

And  in  making  choice  of  facts,  or  what  purport  to  be 
fio,  I   shall   not  go  back  further  than  two  centuries.* 

*  Those  who  are  disposed  to  amuse  themselves  (for,  in  truth,  it  amounts 
to  little  more  than  amusement)  may  find  in  various  ancient  writers  narra- 
tives of  haunted  houses,  apparently  as  well  attested  as  any  other  portion 
of  the  history  of  the  time.  Pliny  the  Younger  has  one  (Plin.  Junior, 
Epist.  ad  Suratn.  lib.  vii.  cap.  27)  which  he  relates  as  having  occurred  to 
the  philosopher  Athenodorus.  The  skeptical  Lucian  (in  Philo-pseud.  p. 
S40)  relates  another  of  a  man  named  Arignotes.     In  later  days,  Antonio 


ANCIENT    HAUNTED    HOUSES.  21S 

Until  printing  became  a  common  art,  and  books  were 
freely  read  beyond  the  limits  of  a  learned  and  restricted 
circle,  a  narrative  of  questionable  events  could  not  ob- 
tain that  extended  circulation  which  would  expose  it  to 
general  criticism,  afford  fair  chance  for  refutation,  and 
thus  give  to  future  ages  some  guarantee  against  the  fre- 
quent errors  of  an  ex-parte  statement. 

Torquemada  (in  his  "Floret  Curiotas,"  Salamanca,  1570)  has  the  story  of 
a  certain  Vasquez  de  Ayola.  In  all  these  three  cases  a  specter  is  alleged 
to  have  disappeared  on  a  spot  where,  on  digging,  a  skeleton  was  found. 
Alexander  ab  Alexandro,  a  learned  Neapolitan  lawyer  of  the  fifteenth  cen- 
tury, states,  as  a  fact  of  common  notoriety,  that  in  Rome  there  are  a  num- 
ber of  houses  so  much  out  of  repute  as  being  haunted  that  no  one  will  ven- 
ture to  inhabit  them ;  and  he  adds,  that,  desiring  to  test  the  truth  of  what 
was  said  in  regard  to  one  of  these  houses,  he,  along  with  a  friend  named 
Tuba  and  others,  spent  a  night  there,  when  they  were  terrified  by  the  ap- 
pearance of  a  phantom  and  by  the  most  frightful  noises  and  disturbances. 
— Alexander  ab  Alexandra,  lib.  v.  cap.  23. 

A  hundred  similar  cases  might  be  adduced,  especially  from  the  writingg 
of^he  ancient  fathers,  as  St  Augustin,  St  Germain,  St  Gregory,  and  others. 

But  no  reliable  inference  can  be  drawn  from  these  vague  old  stories^ 
except  the  universal  prevalence,  in  all  ages,  of  the  same  idea. 


CHAPTEE  n. 

NARRATIVES. 

**  [  have  no  hnmor  nor  delight  in  telling  stories,  and  do  not  publish  these 
for  the  gratification  of  those  that  have ;  but  I  record  them  aa  arguments  for 
the  confirmation  of  a  truth,  which  hath  indeed  been  attested  by  multitudes 
of  the  like  evidences  in  all  places  and  times." — Rev,  Joseph  Glanvil  : 
Pre/,  to  his  Sadduciemtis  Triumphatua. 

The  first  narrative  I  select  was  the  object  of  interest 
and  controversy  all  over  England  for  twenty  years  and 
more,  and  was  published,  almost  at  the  time  of  the 
alleged  occurrences,  by  a  man  of  character  and  station- 

THE   GLANVIL  NARRATIVE. 

Disturbances  at  Mr.  Mompesson's  house  at  Tedworth. 

1661  to  1663. 

The  Eev.  Joseph  Glanvil,  chaplain-in-ordinary  to 
Charles  II.,  was  a  man  well  and  favorably  known  in  his 
day,  as  much  by  various  theological  works  as  by  his 
defense  of  the  Baconian  philosophy,  and  as  the  cham- 
pion, against  certain  detractors,  of  the  Eoyal  Society,  of 
which  he  was  a  member. 

In  the  year  1666  he  published  his  "  Sadducismus  Tri- 
umphatus,"  in  which,  to  sustain  the  popular  opinions  of 
that  age  on  the  subject  of  witches  and  apparitions,  he 
includes  what  he  calls  a  "choice  collection  of  modern 
relations."  Most  of  these  are  from  hearsay,  some  based 
on  the  confessions  of  the  accused  and  other  evidences 
now  admitted  to  be  untrustworthy;  but  the  first  and 
principal  relation,  entitled  by  Glanvil  "  The  Daemon  of 
Tedworth,"  is  of  a  different  character,  being  a  narrative 
of  events  occurring,  at  intervals  throughout  two  entire 

2U 


DISTURBANCES   AT   TEDWORTH.  ilb 

years,  in  the  house  of  a  geiitleniari  of  character  and 
standing,  Mr.  John  Mompesson,  of  Tedworth,  in  the 
county  of  Wilts;  a  portion  of  which  events  were  wit- 
nessed by  Glanvil  himself. 

It  appears  that  in  March,  1661,  Mr.  Mompesson,  in 
his  magisterial  capacity,  had  caused  to  be  arrested  tk 
vagrant  drummer,  who  had  been  annoying  the  country 
by  noisy  demands  for  charity,  and  that  he  had  caused 
his  drum  to  be  taken  from  him  and  left  in  the  bailiff"9 
hands.  This  fact  Mr.  Mompesson  imagined  to  be  con- 
nected with  the  disturbances  that  followed,  and  of  which 
the  chief  details  are  here  given,  quoted  literally  from 
Glanvil's  work. 

"About  the  middle  of  April  following,  (that  is,  in 
1661,)  when  Mr.  Mompesson  was  preparing  for  a  journey 
to  London,  the  bailiff  sent  the  drum  to  his  house.  When 
he  was  returned  from  that  journey,  his  wife  told  hini 
that  they  had  been  much  affrighted  in  the  night  by 
thieves,  and  that  the  house  had  like  to  have  been  broken 
up.  And  he  had  not  been  at  home  above  three  nights 
when  the  same  noise  was  heard  that  had  disturbed  the 
family  in  his  absence.  It  was  a  very  great  knocking  at 
his  doors  and  the  outsides  of  his  house.  Hereupon  he 
got  up  and  went  about  the  house  with  a  brace  of  pistols 
in  his  hands.  He  opened  the  door  where  the  great 
knocking  was,  and  then  he  heard  the  noise  at  another 
door.  He  opened  that  also,  and  went  out  round  his 
house,  but  could  discover  nothing,  only  he  still  heard  a 
strange  noise  and  hollow  sound.  When  he  got  back  to 
bed,  the  noise  was  a  thumping  and  drumming  on  the  top 
of  his  house,  which  continued  a  good  space,  and  then  by 
degrees  went  off  into  the  air. 

'*  After  this,  the  noise  of  thumping  and  drumming  was 
very  frequent,  usually  five  nights  together,  and  then  it 
would  intermit  three.  It  was  on  the  outsides  of  the 
house,  which  was  most  of  it  of  board.     It  constantly 


216  A    CIVIL   CESSATION. 

came  as  they  were  going  to  sleep,  whether  early  or  late. 
After  a  month's  disturbance  without,  it  came  into  the 
room  where  the  drum  lay,  four  or  five  nights  in  seven, 
within  half  an  hour  after  they  were  in  bed,  continuing 
almost  two.  The  sign  of  it,  just  before  it  came,  was  an 
hurling  in  the  air  over  the  house;  and  at  its  going  off, 
the  beating  of  a  drum  like  that  at  the  breaking  up  of  a 
guard.  It  continued  in  this  room  for  the  space  of  two 
months,  which  time  Mr.  Mompesson  himself  lay  there 
to  observe  it."* 

During  Mrs.  Mompesson's  confinement,  and  for  three 
weeks  afterward,  it  intermitted;  but  "after  this  civil 
cessation,"  says  Glanvil,  "it  returned  in  a  ruder  manner 
than  before,  and  followed  and  vext  the  youngest  chil- 
dren, beating  their  bedsteads  with  that  violence,  that  all 
present  expected  when  they  would  fall  to  pieces.  In 
laying  hands  on  them,  one  should  feel  no  blows,  but 
might  perceive  them  to  shake  exceedingly.  For  an 
hour  together  it  would  beat  'Bound-Heads  and  Cuckolds,' 
the  *  Tat-too,'  and  several  other  points  of  war,  as  well 
as  any  drummer.  After  this,  they  would  hear  a  scratch- 
ing under  the  children's  bed,  as  if  by  something  that  had 
iron  talons.  It  would  lift  the  children  up  in  their  beds, 
follow  them  from  one  room  to  another,  and  for  a  while 
haunted  none  particularly  but  them." 

The  next  portion  of  the  recital  is  still  more  marvelous; 
and  Glanvil  states  that  the  occurrences  took  place  in  the 
presence  of  a  minister  of  the  gospel,  Mr.  Cragg,  and  of 
many  neighbors  who  had  come  to  the  house  on  a  visit. 

"The  minister  went  to  prayers  with  them,  kneeling 
at  the  children's  bedside,  where  it  was  then  very  trouble- 
some and  loud.     During  prayer-time  it  withdrew  into 

*  "Sadducismus  Trinmphattia ;  or.  Full  and  Plain  Evidence  concerning 
Witches  and  Apparitions,"  by  Joseph  Glanvil,  late  Chaplain-in-ordinary  to 
His  Majesty,  and  Fellow  of  the  Royal  Society,  3d  ed.,  London,  1689,  pp. 
322-323. 


RESPONDING    OF   THE   SOUNDS.  217 

the  cock-loft,  but  returned  as  soon  as  prayers  were 
done;  and  then,  in  sight  of  the  company,  the  chairs  walkt 
about  the  room  of  themselves,  the  children's  shoes  were 
hurled  over  their  heads,  and  every  loose  thing  moved 
about  the  chamber.  At  the  same  time  a  bed-staff  was 
thrown  at  the  minister,  but  so  favorably,  that  a  lock  of 
wool  could  not  have  fallen  more  softly;  and  it  was  ob- 
served, that  it  stopt  just  where  it  lighted,  without  rolling 
or  moving  from  the  place."  (p.  324.) 

However  whimsical  and  unlikely  all  this  may  appear, 
we  shall  find  it  paralleled  in  modern  examples  occurring 
both  in  Europe  and  America. 

The  next  extract  introduces  a  new  feature,  well  de- 
serving our  attention.  It  is  the  earliest  indication  I 
have  found,  of  that  responding  of  the  sounds,  with  ap- 
parent intelligence,  which  has  expanded  in  these  United 
States  to  such  vast  proportions. 

**Mr.  Mompesson  perceiving  that  it  so  much  perse- 
cuted the  little  children,  he  lodged  them  at  a  neighbor's 
bouse,  taking  his  eldest  daughter,  who  was  about  ten 
years  of  age,  into  his  own  chamber,  where  it  had  not 
boen  a  month  before.  As  soon  as  she  was  in  bed,  the 
d'sturbance  began  there  again,  continuing  three  weeks, 
d/.'umming  and  making  other  noises;  and  it  was  observed 
that  it  would  exactly  answer  in  drumming  any  thing  thai 
was  beaten  or  called  for."  (p.  324.) 

Here  is  another  extract,  confirming  similar  observa- 
tions touching  the  conduct  of  animals  during  like  dis- 
turbances elsewhere. 

"It  was  noted  that  when  the  noise  was  loudest,  and 
came  with  the  most  sudden  and  sui*prising  violence, 
no  dog  about  the  house  would  move,  though  the  knock- 
ing was  oft  so  boisterous  and  rude,  that  it  hath  been 
hoard  at  a  considerable  distance  in  the  fields,  and 
awakened  the  neighbors  in  the  village,  none  of  which 
live  very  near  this."  (p.  324.) 

19 


218  RECORD    OF    GLANVIL's 

The  disturbances  continued  throughout  two  years,  some 
of  them  being  recorded  (p.  332)  as  having  taken  place 
in  the  month  of  April,  1663.  Mr.  Mompesson  and  his 
friends  ascribed  them  to  the  malice  of  the  drummer,  in 
league  with  the  Evil  One.  And  in  this  they  were  con- 
firmed by  the  following  incidents,  occurring  in  the 
month  of  January,  1662.  Those  who  have  any  expe- 
rience in  similar  communications  of  our  day  know  well 
how  little  confidence  ought  to  be  placed  in  such,  when 
uncorroborated  by  other  evidence,  except  as  an  indica- 
tion of  some  occult  intelligence. 

"During  the  time  of  the  knocking  when  many  were 
present,  a  gentleman  of  the  company  said,  '  Satan,  if  the 
drummer  set  thee  to  work,  give  three  knocks  and  no 
more;'  which  it  did  very  distinctly,  and  stopt.  Then 
the  gentleman  knockt,  to  see  if  it  would  answer  him  as 
it  was  wont;  but  it  did  not.  For  farther  trial,  he  bid  it, 
for  confirmation,  if  it  were  the  drummer,  to  give  five 
knocks  and  no  more  that  night,  which  it  did,  and  left 
the  house  quiet  all  the  night  after.  This  was  done  in 
the  presence  of  Sir  Thomas  Chamberlain,  of  Oxford, 
and  divers  others."  (p.  326.) 

So  far  the  narrative,  as  derived  by  our  author  from 
Mr.  Mompesson  and  others;  but  Mr.  Glanvil  himself 
visited  the  scene  of  the  disturbance  in  January,  1662,  and 
gives  us  the  result  of  his  personal  observations,  as  fol- 
lows ; — 

"About  this  time  I  went  to  the  house,  on  purpose  to 
inquire  the  truth  of  those  passages,  of  which  there  was 
so  loud  a  report.  It  had  ceased  from  its  drumming  and 
ruder  noises  before  I  came  thither;  but  most  of  the  more 
remarkable  circumstances  before  related  were  confirmed 
to  me  there,  by  several  of  the  neighbors  together,  who 
had  been  present  at  them.  At  this  time  it  used  to  haunt 
the  children,  and  that  as  soon  as  they  were  laid.  They 
went  to  bed  that  night  I  was  there,  about  eight  of  th« 


OWN   OBSERVATIONS.  219 

clock,  when  a  maid-servant,  coming  down  from  tliem, 
tola  UH  it  was  come.  The  neighbors  that  were  there, 
and  two  ministers  who  had  seen  and  heard  divers  tjmes, 
went  away;  but  Mr.  Mompesson  and  I,  and  a  gentleman 
that  came  with  me,  went  up.  I  heard  a  strange  scratch- 
ing as  we  went  up  the  stairs,  and  when  we  came  into 
the  room,  I  perceived  it  was  just  behind  the  bolster  of 
the  children's  bed,  and  seemed  to  be  against  the  tick. 
It  was  loud  scratching,  as  one  with  long  nails  could 
make  upon  a  bolster.  There  were  two  little  modest 
girls  in  the  bed,  between  seven  and  eleven  years  old,  as 
I  guest.  I  saw  their  hands  out  of  the  cloaths,  and  they 
could  not  contribute  to  the  noise  that  was  behind  their 
heads.  They  had  been  used  to  it,  and  had  still  some- 
body or  other  in  the  chamber  with  them,  and  therefore 
seemed  not  to  be  much  affrighted.  I,  standing  at  the 
bed's  head,  thrust  my  hand  behind  the  bolster,  directing 
it  to  the  place  whence  the  noise  seemed  to  come. 
"Whereupon  the  noise  ceased  there,  and  was  heard  in 
another  part  of  the  bed.  But  when  I  had  taken  out  my 
hand  it  returned,  and  was  heard  in  the  same  place  as 
before.  I  had  been  told  that  it  would  imitate  noises, 
and  made  trial  by  scratching  several  times  upon  the 
sheet,  as  5,  and  7,  and  10,  which  it  followed  and  still 
stopped  at  my  number.  I  searched  under  and  behind 
the  bed,  turned  up  the  clothes  to  the  bed-cords,  graspt 
the  bolster,  sounded  the  wall  behind,  and  made  all  the 
search  that  possibly  I  could,  to  find  if  there  were  any 
trick,  contrivance,  or  common  cause  of  it:  the  like  did 
my  friend;  but  we  could  discover  nothing.  So  that  I 
was  then  verily  persuaded,  and  am  so  still,  that  the  noise 
was  made  by  some  daemon  or  spirit.  After  it  had 
scratched  about  half  an  hour  or  more,  it  went  into  the 
midst  of  the  bed,  under  the  children,  and  there  seemed 
to  pant,  like  a  dog  out  of  breath,  very  loudly.  I  put  my 
band  upon  the  place,  and  felt  the  bed  bearing  up  against 


220  glanvil's  remarks. 

it,  as  if  something  within  had  thrust  it  up.  I  grasped 
the  feathers  to  feel  if  any  living  thing  were  in  it.  I 
looked  under,  and  everywhere  about,  to  see  if  there 
were  any  dog  or  cat,  or  any  such  creature,  in  the  room, 
and  so  we  all  did,  but  found  nothing.  The  motion  it 
caused  by  this  panting  was  so  strong,  that  it  shook  the 
rooms  and  windows  very  sensibly.  It  continued  more 
than  half  an  hour,  while  my  friend  and  I  staid  in  the 
room;  and  as  long  after,  as  we  were  told. 

"  It  will,  I  know,  be  said,  by  some,  that  my  friend  and 
I  were  under  some  affright,  and  so  fancied  noises  and 
sights  that  were  not.  This  is  the  eternal  evasion.  Bat  if 
it  be  possible  to  know  how  a  man  is  affected  when  in  fear, 
and  when  unconcerned,  I  certainlj?  know,  for  mine  own 
part,  that  during  the  whole  time  of  my  being  in  the 
room,  and  in  the  house,  I  was  under  no  more  affright- 
ment,  than  I  am  while  I  write  this  relation.  And  if  1 
know  that  I  am  now  awake,  and  that  I  see  the  objects 
that  are  before  me,  I  know  that  I  heard  and  saw  the 
particulars  that  I  have  told."  (pp.  328  to  330.) 

Mr.  Glanvil  concludes  the  relation,  the  repetitions  and 
less  interesting  portions  of  which,  for  brevity's  sake,  I 
have  omitted,  as  follows: — 

"Thus  I  have  written  the  sum  of  Mr.  Mompesson's 
disturbance,  which  I  had  partly  from  his  own  mouth 
related  before  divers,  who  had  been  witnesses  of  all,  and 
confirmed  his  relation;  and  partly  from  his  own  letters, 
from  which  the  order  and  series  of  things  is  taken.  The 
same  particulars  he  writ  also  to  Dr.  Creed,  then  Doctor 
of  the  chair  in  Oxford."  (p.  334.) 

It  remains  to  be  stated  that,  some  time  after  the 
drummer's  first  commitment,  Mr.  Mompesson  had  him 
again  taken  up  for  felony,  (under  the  statute  of  I.  James, 
chap.  12,)  for  the  supposed  witchcraft  about  his  house. 
The  grand  jury  found  a  true  bill;  but,  to  the  honor  of 
the  petty  jury  be  it  said,  the  man  was  acquitted,  his 


mr.-mompesson's  letter.  221 

connection  with  the  disturbances  not  being  proved. 
The  reality  of  the  disturbances  was  sworn  to  by  various 
witnesses.  To  this  fact  Mr.  Morapesson  alludes  in  a 
letter  written  by  him  to  a  Mr.  James  Collins,  dated 
Tedworth,  August  8,  1674,  and  published  entire  in 
Glanvil's  book.     I  quote  from  that  letter: — 

"  The  evidence  upon  oath  were  myself,  Mr.  William 
Maton,  one  Mr.  Walter  Dowse, — all  yet  living,  and,  I 
think,  of  as  good  repute  as  any  this  country  has  in  it, — 
and  one  Mr.  Joseph  Cragg,  then  minister  of  the  place, 
but  since  dead.  We  all  deposed  several  things  that  "we 
conceived  impossible  to  be  done  by  any  natural  agents, 
as  the  motion  of  chairs,  stools,  and  bed-staves,  nobody 
being  near  them,  the  beating  of  drums  in  the  air  over 
the  house  in  clear  nights,  and  nothing  visible,  the 
shaking  of  the  floor  and  strongest  parts  of  the  house  in 
still  and  calm  nights,  with  several  other  things  of  the 
like  nature."* 

In  another  letter,  addressed  by  Mr.  Mompesson  to  Mr. 
Glanvil  himself,  under  date  November  8, 1672,  he  says, — 

"  Meeting  with  Dr.  Pierce  accidentally  at  Sir  Eobert 
Button's,  he  acquainted  me  of  something  that  passed  be- 
tween my  Lord  of  E and  yourself  aboOt  my  troubles, 

&c. ;  to  which  (having  but  little  leisure)  I  do  give  you  this 
account :  That  I  have  been  very  often  of  late  asked  the 
question,  '  Whether  I  have  not  confessed  to  his  majesty, 
or  any  other,  a  cheat  discovered  about  that  affair.'  To 
which  I  gave,  and  shall  to  my  dying  day  give,  the  same 
answer:  That  I  must  belie  myself,  and  perjure  myself 
also,  to  acknowledge  a  cheat  in  a  tiling  where  I  am  sure 
there  neither  was  or  could  be  any,  as  I,  the  minister  of 
the  place,  and  two  other  honest  gentlemen  deposed  at  the 
assizes  upon  my  impleading  the  drummer.     If  the  world 

*  Mompesson's  letter  to  Collins,  given  entire  in  the  preface  to  the  second 
part  of  Glanvil's  "  Sadductsmut  Trmmphatus,"  3d  ed.,  1689.     Jt  does  noc  ap- 
pear in  the  1st  edition,  not  having  been  then  written. 
19* 


222  .  SUMMARY. 

will  not  believe  it,  it  shall  be  indifferent  to  me,  praying  God 
to  keep  me  from  the  same  or  the  like  affliction."* 

Such  is  a  compendium  of  the  essential  facts  in  this  case, 
literally  extracted  from  Glanvil's  work,  to  which  for  a 
more  detailed  account  the  curious  reader  is  referred. 

In  connection  with  the  above  narrative,  it  is  chiefly  to 
be  noted, — 

That  the  disturbances  continued  for  two  entire  years, 
namely,  from  April,  1661,  until  April,  1663 ;  and  that  Mr. 
Mompesson  took  up  his  quarters  for  the  night,  for  two 
months  at  a  time,  in  a  particular  chamber,  expressly  for 
the  purpose  of  observing  them. 

That  the  sounds  produced  were  so  loud  as  to  awaken 
the  neighbors  in  the  adjoining  village,  at  a  considerable 
distance  from  Mr.  Mompesson's  house. 

That  the  motion  in  the  children's  bed,  in  Mr.  GlanviFs 
presence,  was  so  great  as  sensibly  to  shake  the  doors 
and  windows  of  the  house. 

That  the  facts,  collected  by  Glanvil  at  the  time  they 
occurred,  were  published  by  him  four  years  afterward, 
to  wit,  in  1666;  and  that  the  more  important  of  these 
facts  were  sworn  to  in  a  court  of  justice. 

That  ten  years  after  these  occurrences  took  place, 
and  when  it  was  reported  that  Mr.  Mompesson  had  ad- 
mitted the  discovery  of  a  trick,  that  gentleman  explicitly 
denied  that  he  had  ever  discovered  any  natural  cause  for 
the  phenomena,  and  in  the  most  solemn  manner  indorsed 
his  former  declarations  to  Mr.  Glanvil. 

*  The  letter  is  given  entire  in  the  preface  to  Glanvil's  work,  3d  edition. 

It  is  remarkable  how  unscrupulously  some  men  who  ought  to  know 
better  deny,  without  any  foundation,  the  truth  of  some  unwelcome  fact. 
In  the  "  Philosophy  of  Mystery,"  by  Walter  Cooper  Dendy,  Fellow  and 
Honorary  Secretary  to  the  Medical  Society  of  London,  the  author,  speaking 
of  the  "mystery  of  the  Demon  of  Tedworth,"  says,  "This  also  was  the 
source  of  extreme  wonder  until  the  drummer  was  tried  and  convict©^  and 
Mr.  Mompesson  confessed  that  the  mystery  was  the  effect  of  contrivance."  *- 
'Jhapter  "  Illustration  of  Mysterious  Sounds,"  pp.  149,  150. 


qlanvil's  remarks.  229 

When  to  these  considerations  are  added  the  following 
remarks  of  Mr.  Glanvil  regarding  the  character  of  Mr. 
Mompesson  and  the  chances  of  imposture  under  the 
circumstances,  the  reader  has  before  him  all  the  mate- 
rials for  judging  in  this  case. 

"  Mr.  Mompesson  is  a  gentleman  of  whose  truth  in 
this  account  I  have  not  the  least  ground  of  suspicion, 
he  being  neither  vain  nor  credulous,  but  a  discreet,  saga- 
cious, and  manly  person.  Now,  the  credit  of  matters  of 
fact  depends  much  upon  the  relators,  who,  if  they  can- 
not be  deceived  themselves  nor  supposed  anyways  inte- 
rested to  impose  upon  others,  ought  to  be  credited.  For 
upon  these  circumstances  all  human  faith  is  grounded, 
and  matter  of  fact  is  not  capable  of  any  proof  besides 
but  that  of  immediate  sensible  evidence.  Now,  this 
gentleman  cannot  be  thought  ignorant  whether  that  he 
relates  be  true  or  no, — the  scene  of  all  being  his  own 
house,  himself  the  witness,  and  that  not  of  a  circum- 
stance or  two,  but  of  an  hundred,  nor  of  once  or  twice 
onl}^,  but  for  the  space  of  some  years,  during  which  he 
was  a  concerned  and  inquisitive  observer.  So  that 
it  cannot  with  any  show  of  reason  be  supposed  that 
any  of  his  servants  abused  him,  since  in  all  that  time  he 
must  needs  have  detected  the  deceit.  And  what  interest 
could  any  of  his  family  have  had  (if  it  had  been  possi- 
ble to  have  managed  without  discovery)  to  continue  so 
long,  so  troublesome,  and  so  injurious  an  imposture  ? 
Nor  can  it  with  any  whit  of  more  probability  be  imagined 
that  his  own  melancholy  deluded  him,  since  (besides 
that  he  is  no  crazy  nor  imaginative  person)  that  humor 
could  not  have  been  so  lasting  and  pertinacious.  Or,  if 
it  were  so  in  him,  can  we  think  he  affected  his  whole 
family  and  those  multitudes  of  neighbors  and  others 
who  had  so  often  been  witnesses  of  those  passages? 
Such  supposals  are  wild,  and  not  like  to  tempt  any  but 
those  whose  wills  are  their  reasons.     So  that,  upon  the 


224  glanvil's  remarks. 

whole,  the  principal  relator,  Mr.  Mompesson  himself, 
knew  whether  what  he  reports  was  true  or  not,  whether 
those  things  acted  in  his  house  were  contrived  cheats  or 
extraordinary  realities.  And,  if  so,  what  interest  could 
he  serve  in  carrying  on  or  conniving  at  a  juggling  de- 
sign and  imposture  ? 

"  He  suffered  by  it  in  his  name,  in  his  estate,  in  all  his 
affairs,  and  in  the  general  peace  of  his  family.  The  un- 
believers in  the  matter  of  spirits  and  witches  took  him 
for  an  impostor.  Many  others  judged  the  permission  of 
such  an  extraordinary  evil  to  be  the  judgment  of  Grod 
upon  him  for  some  notorious  wickedness  or  impiety. 
Thus  his  name  was  continually  exposed  to  censure,  and 
his  estate  suffered  by  the  concourse  of  people  from  all 
parts  to  his  house ;  by  the  diversion  it  gave  him  from 
his  affairs;  by  the  discouragement  of  servants,  by  reason 
of  which  he  could  hardly  get  any  to  live  with  him.  To 
which  I  add,  the  continual  hurry  that  his  family  was  in, 
the  affrights,  and  the  watchings  and  disturbance  of  his 
whole  house,  (in  which  himself  must  needs  be  the  most 
concerned.)  I  say,  if  these  things  are  considered,  there 
Will  be  little  reason  to  think  he  would  have  any  interest 
to  put  a  cheat  upon  the  world  in  which  he  would  most 
of  all  have  injured  and  abused  himself."* 

Leaving  this  case  in  the  reader's  hands,  I  pass  to 
another,  occurring  in  the  eighteenth  century. 
THE  WESLEY  NARRATIVE. 

Disturbances  in  Mr.  Wesley's  parsonage  at  Epworth. 

1716  and  1717. 

In  the  year  1716,  the  Eev.  Samuel  Wesley,  father  of 
the  celebrated  John  Wesley  the  founder  of  Methodism, 
was  rector  of  Ep worth,  in  the  county  of  Lincoln,  Eng- 
land. In  his  parsonage-house,  the  same  in  which  John 
was   born,  there  occurred,  throughout  the  months  of 

*  *'  Sadduciamut  Triumphatua,"  pp.  334  to  336. 


THE    WESLEY    NARRATIVE.  225 

December,  1716,  and  of  January,  1717,  sundry  disturb- 
ances, of  which  Mr.  Samuel  Wesley  kept  a  detailed 
journal.  The  particulars  are  further  preserved  in  twelve 
letters  written  on  the  subject,  at  the  time,  to  and  from 
various  members  of  the  family.  In  addition  to  this, 
Mr.  John  Wesley  himself  went  down  to  Epworth  in  the 
year  1720,  inquired  carefully  into  the  particulars,  re- 
ceived statements  in  writing  from  each  member  of  the 
family  touching  what  they  had  seen  and  heard,  and 
compiled  from  these  a  naiTative  which  he  published  in 
the  "Arminian  Magazine.'* 

The  original  documents  were  preserved  in  the  family, 
came  into  the  hands  of  Mrs.  Earle,  grand-daughter  of 
Mr.  Samuel  Wesley,  (the  eldest  brother  of  John,)  were 
intrusted  by  her  to  a  Mr.  Babcock,  and  by  him  given 
to  the  well-known  Dr.  Joseph  Priestley,  by  whom  the 
whole  were  first  published  in  1791.* 

They  have  been  reprinted  by  Dr.  Adam  Clarke,  in 
his  "  Memoirs  of  the  Wesley  Family."f  They  cover 
forty-six  pages  of  that  work;  and,  as  they  contain 
numerous  repetitions,  I  content  myself  with  tran- 
scribing a  portion  only,  commencing  with  the  narrative 
drawn  up  by  Mr.  John  Wesley,  to  which  I  have  already 
referred. 

NARRATIVE. 

"  On  December  2,  1716,  while  Eobert  Brown,  my 
father's  servant,  was  sitting  with  one  of  the  maids,  a 
little  before  ten  at  night,  in  the  dining-room,  which 
opened  into  the  garden,  they  both  heard  one  knocking 
at  the  door.     Robert  rose  and  opened  it,  but  could  see 

*  "  Original  Letters  by  the  Rei\  John  Wesley  and  hit  Friends,  illustratiiM 
of  his  Early  History"  with  other  Curious  Papers,  communicated  by  th<» 
late  Rev.  S.  Babcock.  To  which  is  prefixed  An  Address  to  the  Method- 
ists, by  Joseph  Priestley,  LL.D.,  F.R.S.,  Ac,  London,  1791:  an  octavo 
polume  of  170  pages.     This  pamphlet  is  scarce. 

t  "  Memoirs  of  the  Wesley  Family,"  collected  principally  firom  original 
documents.     By  Adam  Clarke,  LL.D.,  F.A.S.,  2d  ed.,  London,  1843. 
P 


22(^  DISTURBANCES   AT       • 

nobody.  Quickly  it  knocked  again,  and  groaned.  '  It 
is  Mr.  Turpine/  said  Eobert :  '  he  has  the  stone,  and 
uses  to  groan  so.'  He  opened  the  door  again  twice  or 
thrice,  the  knocking  being  twice  or  thrice  repeated; 
but,  still  seeing  nothing,  and  being  a  little  startled, 
they  rose  up  and  went  to  bed.  When  Eobert  came  to 
the  top  of  the  garret  stairs,  he  saw  a  handmill  which 
was  at  a  little  distance  whirled  about  very  swiftly. 
When  he  related  this  he  said,  ^  Nought  vexed  me  but 
that  it  was  empty.  I  thought  if  it  had  but  been  full 
of  malt  he  might  have  ground  his  heart  out  for  me.' 
When  he  was  in  bed,  he  heard  as  it  were  the  gobbling 
of  a  turkey-cock  close  to  the  bedside,  and  soon  after  the 
sound  of  one  stumbling  over  his  shoes  and  boots ;  but 
there  was  none  there:  he  had  left  them  below.  The 
next  day,  he  and  the  maid  related  these  things  to  the 
other  maid,  who  laughed  heartily,  and  said,  ^  What  a 
couple  of  fools  are  you !  I  defy  any  thing  to  fright 
me.'  After  churning  in  the  evening,  she  put  the  butter 
in  the  tray,  and  had  no  sooner  carried  it  into  the  dairy 
than  she  heard  a  knocking  on  the  shelf  where  several 
puncheons  of  milk  stood,  first  above  the  shelf,  then 
below.  She  took  the  candle,  and  searched  both  above 
atid  below,  but,  being  able  to  find  nothing,  threw  down 
butter,  tray,  and  all,  and  ran  away  for  life.  The  next 
evening,  between  five  and  six  o'clock,  my  sister  Molly, 
then  about  twenty  years  of  age,  sitting  in  the  dining- 
room  reading,  heard  as  if  it  were  the  door  that  led 
into  the  hall  open,  and  a  person  walking  in  that 
seemed  to  have  on  a  silk  night-gown,  rustling  and 
trailing  along.  It  seemed  to  walk  round  her,  then  to 
the  door,  then  round  again;  but  she  could  see  nothing. 
She  thought,  ^  It  signifies  nothing  to  run  away;  for, 
whatever  it  is,  it  can  run  faster  than  me.'  So  she  rose, 
put  her  book  under  her  arm,  and  walked  slowly  away. 
After   supper,  she  was  sitting  with  my  sister  Sukey 


XPWORTH  PARSONAGE.  2Z'' 

(about  a  year  older  than  her)  in  one  of  the  chambers, 
and  telling  her  what  had  happened.  She  made  quite 
light  of  it,  telling  her,  *I  wonder  you  are  so  easily 
frighted :  I  would  fain  see  what  would  fright  me.'  Pre- 
sently a  knocking  began  under  the  table.  She  took 
the  candle  and  looked,  but  could  find  nothing.  Then 
the  iron  casement  began  to  clatter,  and  the  lid  of  a 
warming-pan.  Next  the  latch  of  the  door  moved  up 
and  down  without  ceasing.  She  started  up,  leaped 
into  the  bed  without  undressing,  pulled  the  bed-clothes 
over  her  head,  and  never  ventured  to  look  up  until  next 
morning. 

"A  night  or  two  after,  my  sister  Hetty  (a  year 
younger  than  my  sister  Molly)  was  waiting  as  usual, 
between  nine  and  ten,  to  take  away  my  father's  candle, 
when  she  heard  one  coming  down  the  garret  stairs, 
walking  slowly  by  her,  then  going  down  the  best 
stairs,  then  up  the  back  stairs,  and  up  the  garret  stairs ; 
and  at  every  step  it  seemed  the  house  shook  from  top 
to  bottom.  Just  then  my  father  knocked.  She  went 
in,  took  his  candle,  and  got  to  bed  as  fast  as  possible. 
In  the  morning  she  told  this  to  my  eldest  sister,  who 
told  her,  ^  You  know  I  believe  none  of  these  things : 
pray  let  me  take  away  the  candle  to-night,  and  I  will 
find  out  the  trick.'  She  accordingly  took  my  sister 
Hetty's  place,  and  had  no  sooner  taken  away  the  candle 
than  she  heard  a  noise  below.  She  hastened  down- 
stairs to  the  hall,  where  the  noise  was,  but  it  was  then 
in  the  kitchen.  She  ran  into  the  kitchen,  where  it  was 
drumming  on  the  inside  of  the  screen.  When  she 
went  round,  it  was  drumming  on  the  outside,  and  so 
always  on  the  side  opposite  to  her.  Then  she  heard  a 
knocking  at  the  back  kitchen  door.  She  ran  to  it,  un- 
locked it  softly,  and,  when  the  knocking  was  repeated, 
suddenly  opened  it;  but  nothing  was  to  be  seen.  As 
noon   as  she   h^4  shut  it,  the  knoc]t:ing  began   agaiq 


22»  DISTURBANCES   AT 

She  oponed  it  again,  but  could  see  nothing.  When  she 
went  to  shut  the  door,  it  was  violently  thrust  against 
her;  but  she  set  her  knee  and  her  shoulder  to  the  door, 
forced  it  to,  and  turned  the  key.  Then  the  knocking 
began  again ;  but  she  let  it  go  on,  and  went  up  to  bed. 
However,  from  that  time  she  was  thoroughly  convinced 
that  there  was  no  imposture  in  the  affair. 

"  The  next  morning,  ray  sister  telling  my  mother 
what  had  happened,  she  said,  '  If  I  hear  any  thing 
myself,  I  shall  know  how  to  judge.'  Soon  after  she 
begged  her  to  coma  into  the  nursery.  She  did,  and 
heard,  in  the  corner  of  the  room,  as  it  were  the  violent 
rocking  of  a  cradle;  but  no  cradle  had  been  there  for 
some  years.  She  was  convinced  it  was  preternatural, 
and  earnestly  prayed  it  might  not  disturb  her  in  her 
own  chamber  at  the  hours  of  retirement;  and  it  never 
did.  She  now  thought  it  was  proper  to  tell  my  father. 
But  he  was  extremely  angry,  and  said,  'Sukey,  I  am 
ashamed  of  you.  These  boys  and  girls  frighten  one 
another;  but  you  are  a  woman  of  sense,  and  should 
know  better.     Let  me  hear  of  it  no  more.' 

"At  six  in  the  evening  he  had  family  prayers  as  usual. 
When  he  began  the  prayer  for  the  king,  a  knocking 
began  all  round  the  room,  and  a  thundering  knock 
attended  the  Amen.  The  same  was  heard  from  this 
time  every  morning  and  evening  while  the  prayer  for 
the  king  was  repeated  As  both  my  father  and  mother 
are  now  at  rest,  and  incapable  of  being  pained  thereby, 
I  think  it  my  duty  to  furnish  the  serious  reader  with  a 
key  to  this  circumstance. 

*'  The  year  before  King  William  died,  my  father  ob- 
served my  mother  did  not  say  amen  to  the  prayer  for 
the  king.  She  said  she  could  not,  for  she  did  not 
believe  the  Prince  of  Orange  was  king.  He  vowed  he 
would  never  cohabit  with  her  until  she  did.  He  then 
took  his  horse  and  rode  away;   nor  did  she  hoar  any 


EPWORTH   PAR  BON  AGE.  229 

thing  of  him  for  a  twelve-month.  He  then  came  back, 
and  lived  with  her  as  before.  But  I  fear  his  vow  was 
not  forgotten  before  God. 

"  Being  informed  that  Mr.  Hoole,  the  vicar  of  Haxey, 
(an  eminently  pious  and  sensible  man,)  could  give  me 
some  further  information,  I  walked  over  to  him.  He 
said,  'Eobert  Brown  came  over  to  me,  and  told  me 
your  father  desired  my  company.  When  I  came,  he 
gave  me  an  account  of  all  that  had  happened,  par- 
ticularly the  knocking  during  family  prayer.  But  that 
evening  (to  my  great  satisfaction)  we  had  no  knocking 
at  all.  But  between  nine  and  ten  a  servant  came  in, 
and  said,  **01d  Jeifreyis  coming,  (that  was  the  name  of 
one  that  died  in  the  house,)  for  I  hear  the  signal."  This 
they  informed  me  was  heard  every  night  about  a  quarter 
before  ten.  It  was  toward  the  top  of  the  house,  on  the 
outside,  at  the  northeast  corner,  resembling  the  loud 
creaking  of  a  saw,  or  rather  that  of  a  windmill  when 
the  body  of  it  is  turned  about  in  order  to  shift  the  sails 
to  the  wind.  We  then  heard  a  knocking  over  our 
heads;  and  Mr.  Wesley,  catching  up  a  candle,  said, 
"Come,  sir,  now  you  shall  hear  for  yourself."  We  went 
up-stairs;  he  with  much  hope,  and  I  (to  say  the  truth) 
with  much  fear.  When  we  came  into  the  nursery,  it 
was  knocking  in  the  next  room ;  when  we  went  there, 
it  was  knocking  in  the  nursery.  And  there  it  con- 
tinued to  knock,  though  we  came  in,  particularly  at  the 
head  of  the  bed  (which  was  of  wood)  in  which  Miss 
Hetty  and  two  of  her  younger  sisters  lay.  Mr.  Wesley 
observing  that  they  were  much  affected, —  though 
asleep,  sweating,  and  trembling  exceedingly, — was  very 
angry,  and,  pulling  out  a  pistol,  was  going  to  fire  at  the 
place  from  whence  the  sound  came.  But  I  snatched 
him  by  the  arm,  and  said,  "  Sir,  you  are  convinced  this 
is  somethmg  preternatural.  If  so,  you  cannot  hurt  it; 
Dut  you  give  it  power  to  hurt  you."     He  thep   vAn\ 

20 


230  DISTURBANCES   AT 

closo  to  the  place,  and  said,  sternly,  "Thou  deaf  and 
dumb  devil !  why  dost  thou  fright  these  children,  that 
cannot  answer  for  themselves?  Come  to  me,  in  my 
study,  that  am  a  man  V  Instantly,  it  knocked  his 
knock  (the  particular  knock  which  he  always  used 
at  the  gate)  as  if  it  would  shiver  the  board  to  pieces ; 
and  we  heard  nothing  more  that  night.' 

"  Till  this  time  my  father  had  never  heard  the  least 
disturbance  in  his  study.  But  the  next  evening,  as  he 
attempted  to  go  into  his  study,  (of  which  none  had  the 
key  but  himself,)  when  he  opened  the  door,  it  was  thrust 
back  with  such  violence  as  had  like  to  have  thrown  him 
down.  However,  he  thrust  the  door  open,  and  went  in. 
Presently  there  was  a  knocking,  first  on  one  side,  then 
on  the  other,  and,  after  a  time,  in  the  next  room,  wherein 
my  sister  Nancy  was.  He  went  into  that  room,  and, 
the  noise  continuing,  adjured  it  to  speak,  but  in  vain. 
He  then  said,  ^  These  spirits  love  darkness  :  put  out  the 
candle,  and  perhaps  it  will  speak.'  She  did  so,  and  he 
repeated  his  adjuration;  but  still  there  was  only  knock- 
ing, and  no  articulate  sound.  Upon  this  he  said,  'Nancy, 
two  Christians  are  an  overmatch  for  the  devil.  Go  all 
of  you  down-stairs :  it  may  be  when  I  am  alone  he  will 
have  courage  to  speak.'  When  she  was  gone,  a  thought 
came  in  his  head,  and  he  said,  '  If  thou  art  the  spirit  of 
my  son  Samuel,  I  pray  knock  three  knocks,  and  no 
more.'  Immediately  all  was  silence,  and  there  was  no 
more  knocking  at  all  that  night.  I  asked  my  sister 
Kancy  (then  fifteen  years  old)  whether  she  was  not 
afraid  when  my  father  used  that  adjuration.  She 
answered  she  was  sadly  afraid  it  would  speak  when  she 
put  out  the  candle :  but  she  was  not  at  all  afraid  in  the 
day-time,  when  it  walked  after  her,  only  she  thought 
when  she  was  about  her  work  he  might  have  done  it  for 
her,  and  saved  her  the  trouble. 

"  By  this  time  all  my  sisters  were  so  accustomed  to 


EPWORTH   PARSONAGE.  231 

these  noises  that  they  gave  them  little  disturbance.  A 
gentle  tapping  at  their  bed-head  usually  began  between 
nine  and  ten  at  night.  They  then  commonly  said  to 
each  other,  ^Jeffrey  is  coming:  it  is  time  to  go  to  sleep.' 
And  if  they  heard  a  noise  in  the  day,  and  said  to  my 
youngest  sister,  ^Hark,  Kezzy,  Jeffrey  is  knocking 
above,'  she  would  run  up-stairs  and  pursue  it  from  room 
to  room,  saying  she  desired  no  better  diversion. 

"  A  few  nights  after,  my  father  and  mother  had  just 
gone  to  bed,  and  the  candle  was  not  taken  away,  when 
they  heard  three  blows,  and  a  second  and  a  third  three, 
as  it  were  with  a  large  oaken  staff,  struck  upon  a  chest 
which  stood  by  the  bedside.  My  father  immediately 
arose,  put  on  his  night-gown,  and,  hearing  great  noises 
below,  took  the  candle  and  went  down  ;  my  mother 
walked  by  his  side.  As  they  went  down  the  broad 
stairs,  they  heard  as  if  a  vessel  full  of  silver  was  poured 
upon  my  mother's  breast  and  ran  jingling  down  to  her 
feet.  Quickly  after,  there  was  a  sound  as  if  a  large  iron 
bell  was  thrown  among  many  bottles  under  the  stairs ; 
but  nothing  was  hurt.  Soon  after,  our  large  mastiff  dog 
came,  and  ran  to  shelter  himself  between  them.  While 
the  disturbances  continued  he  used  to  bark  and  leap, 
and  snap  on  one  side  and  the  other,  and  that  frequently 
before  any  person  in  the  room  heard  any  noise  at  all. 
But  after  two  or  three  days  he  used  to  tremble,  and 
creep  away  before  the  noise  began.  And  by  this  the 
family  knew  it  was  at  hand;  nor  did  the  observation 
ever  fail. 

"  A  little  before  my  father  and  mother  came  into  the 
hall,  it  seemed  as  if  a  very  large  coal  was  violently 
thrown  upon  the  floor  and  dashed  all  in  pieces;  but 
nothing  was  seen.  My  father  then  cried  out,  *  Sukey, 
do  you  not  hear  ?  all  the  pewter  is  thrown  about  the 
kitchen.'  But  when  they  looked,  all  the  pewter  stood 
in  its  place     There  then  was  a  loud  knocking  at  the 


2*i2  KNOCKINGS. 

back  door.  My  father  opened  it,  but  saw  nothing.  It 
was  then  at  the  fore  door.  He  opened  that,  but  it  was 
still  lost  labor.  After  opening  first  the  one,  then  the 
other,  several  times,  he  turned  and  went  up  to  bed.  But 
the  noises  were  so  violent  over  the  house  that  he  could 
not  sleep  till  four  in  the  morning. 

"  Several  gentlemen  and  clergymen  now  earnestly  ad- 
vised my  father  to  quit  the  house.  But  he  constantly 
answered,  ^No  :  let  the  devil  flee  from  me ;  I  will  never 
flee  from  the  devil.'  But  he  wrote  to  my  eldest  brother, 
at  London,  to  come  down.  He  was  preparing  so  to  do, 
when  another  letter  came  informing  him  the  disturb- 
ances were  over,  after  they  had  continued  (the  latter 
part  of  the  time  day  and  night)  from  the  2d  of  Decem- 
ber to  the  end  of  January."* 

The  journal  of  Mr.  Wesley,  Sen.,  (p.  247,)  fully  corro- 
borates his  son's  narrative,  adding  some  further  parti- 
culars. He  notices  that,  on  the  23d  December,  in  the 
nursery,  when  his  daughter  Emily  knocked,  it  answered 
her.  On  another  occasion,  he  says,  "  I  went  down-stairs, 
and  knocked  with  my  stick  against  the  joists  of  the  kit- 
chen. It  answered  me  as  often  and  as  loud  as  I  knocked; 
but  then  I  knocked  as  I  usually  do  at  my  door, — 1, — 
2,  3,  4,  5,  6, — 7 ;  but  this  puzzled  it,  and  it  did  not 
answer,  or  not  in  the  same  method,  though  the  children 
heard  it  do  the  same  exactly  twice  or  thrice  after."  This 
corresponds  with  what  Mr.  Hoole  said  about  "its  knock- 
ing Mr.  Wesley's  knock." 

On  the  25th  of  December,  he  says,  "  The  noises  were 
80  violent  it  was  vain  to  think  of  sleep  while  they  con- 
tinued." So,  again,  on  December  27,  he  adds,  "  They 
were  so  boisterous  that  I  did  not  care  to  leave  my 
family," — as  he  wished  to  do,  to  pay  a  visit  to  a  friend, 
Mr.  Downs. 

♦  "Memoirs  of  the  Wesley  Family,"  vol.  i.  pp.  253  to  200. 


EMILY    WE8LEY*8    LETTER.  288 

He  says,  also,  "  I  have  been  thrice  pushed  by  an  in- 
visible power,  once  against  the  corner  of  my  desk  in  the 
study,  a  second  time  against  the  door  of  the  matted 
chamber,  a  third  time  against  the  right  side  of  the  frame 
of  my  study  door,  as  I  was  going  in." 

As  to  the  dog,  under  date  December  25,  his  record  is, 
•*  Our  mastiff  came  whining  to  us,  as  he  did  always  after 
the  first  night  of  its  coming;  for  then  he  barked  violently 
at  it,  but  was  silent  afterwards,  and  seemed  more  afraid 
than  any  of  the  children." 

The  letters  corroborating  the  various  details  are  too 
long  and  numerous  to  be  here  transcribed.  I  extract, 
as  a  specimen,  from  one  written  by  Emily  Wesley 
(afterward  Mrs.  Harper)  to  her  brother  Samuel.  She 
says, — 

*'  I  thank  you  for  your  last,  and  shall  give  you  what 
Batisfaction  is  in  my  power  concerning  what  has  hap- 
pened in  our  family.  I  am  so  far  from  being  supersti- 
tious, that  I  was  too  much  inclined  to  infidelity:  so  that 
I  heartily  rejoice  at  having  such  an  opportunity  of  con- 
vincing myself,  past  doubt  or  scruple,  of  the  existence 
of  some  beings  besides  those  we  see.  A  whole  month 
was  suflScient  to  convince  anybody  of  the  reality  of  the 
thing,  and  to  try  jtU  ways  of  discovering  any  trick,  had 
it  been  possible  for  any  such  to  have  been  used.  I  shall 
only  tell  you  what  I  myself  heard,  and  leave  the  rest  to 
others. 

"  My  sisters  in  the  paper  chamber  had  heard  noises, 
and  told  me  of  them;  but  I  did  not  much  believe  till  one 
night,  about  a  week  after  the  first  groans  were  heard, 
which  was  the  beginning.  Just  after  the  clock  had 
ptruck  ten,  I  went  down-stairs  to  lock  the  doors,  which 
I  always  do.  Scarce  had  I  got  up  the  best  stairs,  when 
I  heard  a  noise  like  a  person  throwing  down  a  vast  coal 
in  the  middle  of  the  fore  kitchen,  and  all  the  splinters 
«eemed  to  fly  about  from  it.     I  was  not  much  frighted, 

20* 


234  EMILY  Wesley's  account 

but  went  to  my  sister  Sukey,  and  we  together  went  all 
over  the  low  rooms;  but  there  was  nothing  out  of 
order. 

^'  Our  dog  was  fast  asleep,  and  our  only  cat  in  the 
other  end  of  the  house.  No  sooner  was  I  got  up-stairs 
and  undressing  for  bed,  but  I  heard  a  noise  among  many 
bottles  that  stand  under  the  best  stairs,  just  like  the 
throwing  of  a  great  stone  among  them  which  had  broken 
them  all  to  pieces.  This  made  me  hasten  to  bed.  But 
my  sister  Hetty,  who  sits  always  to  wait  on  my  father 
going  to  bed,  was  still  sitting  on  the  lowest  step  on  the 
garret  stairs,  the  door  being  shut  at  her  back,  when, 
soon  after,  there  came  down  the  stairs  behind  her  some- 
thing like  a  man  in  a  loose  night-gown  trailing  after 
him,  which  made  her  fly  rather  than  run  to  me  in  the 
nursery. 

"  All  this  time  we  never  told  my  father  of  it ;  but  soon 
we  did.  He  smiled,  and  gave  no  answer,  but  was  more 
careful  than  usual  from  that  time  to  see  us  in  bed,  ima- 
gining it  to  be  some  of  us  young  women  that  sat  up  late 
and  made  a  noise.  His  incredulity,  and  especially  his 
imputing  it  to  us  or  our  lovers,  made  me,  I  own,  de- 
sirous of  its  continuance  till  he  was  convinced.  As  for 
my  mother,  she  firmly  believed  it  to  be  rats,  and  sent  for 
a  horn  to  blow  them  away.  I  laughed  to  think  how 
wisely  they  were  employed  who  were  striving  half  a 
day  to  fright  away  Jeffrey  (for  that  name  I  gave  it) 
with  a  horn. 

"  But,  whatever  it  was,  I  perceived  it  could  be  made 
angry ;  for  from  that  time  it  was  so  outrageous,  there 
was  no  quiet  for  us  after  ten  at  night.  I  heard  fre- 
quently, between  ten  and  eleven,  something  like  the  quick 
winding-up  of  a  jack  at  the  corner  of  the  room  by  my 
bed's  head,  just  like  the  running  of  the  wheels  and  the 
creaking  of  the  iron-work.  This  was  the  common  sig- 
nal of  its  coming.     Then  it  would  knock  on  the  floor 


OF   THE   DISTURBANCES.  285 

three  times,  then  at  my  sister's  bed's  head,  in  the  same 
room,  almost  always  three  together,  and  then  stay. 
The  sound  was  hollow  and  loud,  so  as  none  of  us  could 
ever  imitate. 

*^It  would  answer  to  my  mother  if  she  stamped  on 
the  floor  and  bid  it.  It  would  knock  when  I  was  put- 
ting the  children  to  bed,  just  under  me,  where  I  sat. 
One  time  little  Kezzy,  pretending  to  scare  Polly,  as  I 
was  undressing  them,  stamped  with  her  foot  on  the 
floor;  and  immediately  it  answered  with  three  knocks, 
just  in  the  same  place.  It  was  more  loud  and  fierce  if 
any  one  said  it  was  rats,  or  any  thing  natural. 

"  I  could  tell  you  abundance  more  of  it,  but  the  rest 
will  write,  and  therefore  it  would  be  needless.  I  was 
not  much  frighted  at  first,  and  very  little  at  last;  but  it 
was  never  near  me,  except  two  or  three  times,  and 
never  followed  me,  as  it  did  my  sister  Hetty.  I  have 
been  with  her  when  it  has  knocked  under  her;  and  when 
she  has  removed  it  has  followed,  and  still  kept  just  under 
her  feet,  which  was  enough  to  terrify  a  stouter  person." 
(pp.  270  to  272.) 

Under  date  January  19, 1717,  Mr.  Samuel  Wesley,  Jr., 
wrote  to  his  mother,  propounding  certain  questions,  to 
which  she  most  satisfactorily  replied,  adding,  <<  But, 
withal,  I  desire  that  my  answers  may  satisfy  none  but 
yourself;  fori  would  not  have  the  matter  imparted  to  any." 

From  a  memorandum  of  Mr.  John  Wesley,  detailing 
the  "general  circumstances,  of  which  most  if  not  all  the 
family  were  frequent  witnesses,"  I  extract  as  follows : — 

''Before  it  came  into  any  room,  the  latches  were  fre- 
quently lifted  up,  the  windows  clattered,  and  whatever 
iron  or  brass  was  about  the  chamber  rung  and  jarred 
exceedingly. 

'*  When  it  was  in  any  room,  let  them  make  what  noise 
ihey  would,  as  they  sometimes  did  on  purpose,  its  dead, 
hollow  noxe  would  be  clearly  heard  above  them  all. 


236  THIRTY-FOUR   YEARS    AFTER. 

"The  sound  very  often  seemed  in  the  air  in  the  middU 
of  a  room;  nor  could  they  ever  make  any  such  them- 
selves, by  any  contrivance. 

"  It  never  came  by  day  till  my  mother  ordered  the 
horn  to  be  blown.  After  that  time  scarce  any  one  could 
go  from  one  room  into  another  but  the  latch  of  the  room 
they  went  to  was  lifted  up  before  they  touched  it. 

"It  never  came  into  my  father's  study  till  he  talked 
to  it  sharply,  called  it  deaf  and  dumb  devil,  and  bid  it 
cease  to  disturb  the  innocent  children  and  come  to  him 
in  his  study  if  it  had  any  thing  to  say  to  him. 

"From  the  time  of  my  mother's  desiring  it  not  to  dis- 
turb her  from  five  to  six,  it  was  never  heard  in  her 
chamber  from  five  till  she  came  down-stairs,  nor  at  any 
other  time  when  she  was  employed  in  devotion."  (pp. 
284,  285.) 

It  remains  to  be  stated  that  one  member,  at  least,  of 
the  family,  Emily  Wesley,  a  portion  of  whoso  letter  on 
the  subject  has  already  been  given,  conceived  herself  to 
have  been  followed  by  the  Epworth  spirit  through  life. 
Dr.  Clarke  states  that  he  possesses  an  original  letter 
from  that  lady  to  her  brother  John,  dated  February  16, 
1750, — that  is,  thirty-four  years  after  the  preceding 
events  happened, — from  which  letter  he  publishes  the 
following  extract: — 

"I  want  sadly  to  see  you,  and  talk  some  hours  with 
you,  as  in  times  past.  One  doctrine  of  yours  and  of 
many  more, — namely,  no  happiness  can  be  found  in  any 
or  all  things  in  the  world :  that,  as  I  have  sixteen  years 
of  my  own  experience  which  lie  flatly  against  it,  I  want 
to  talk  with  you  about  it.  Another  thing  is,  that  won- 
derful thing  called  by  us  Jeffrey.  You  won't  laugh  at 
me  for  being  superstitious  if  I  tell  you  how  certainly 
that  something  calls  on  me  against  any  extraordinary 
new  affliction;   but  so  little  is  known  of  the  invisible 


DR.  Clarke's  remarks.  23 « 

world  that  I,  at  least,  am  not  able  to  judge  whether  it 
be  a  friendly  or  an  evil  spirit."* 

As  to  the  causes  of  these  disturbances,  Dr.  Clarke  has 
the  following: — "  For  a  considerable  time  all  the  family 
believed  it  to  be  a  trick;  but  at  last  they  were  all  satis- 
fied it  was  something  supernatural.".  .  .  "Mr.  John 
Wesley  believed  that  it  was  a  messenger  of  Satan  sent 
to  buffet  his  father  for  his  rash  promise  of  leaving  his 
family,  and  very  improper  conduct  to  his  wife,  in  conse- 
quence of  her  scruple  to  pray  for  the  Prince  of  Orange 
as  King  of  England."  ..."  With  others  the  house 
was  considered  as  haunted."  .  .  .  "Dr.  Priestley 
thinks  the  whole  trick  and  imposture.  It  must  be,  on 
his  system  of  materialism;  but  this  does  not  solve  the 
difficulty;  it  only  cuts  the  knot."  .  .  .  "Mrs.  Wes- 
ley's opinion  was  different  from  all  the  rest,  and  was 
probably  the  most  correct:  she  supposed  that  'these 
noises  and  disturbances  portended  the  death  of  her  bro- 
ther, then  abroad  in  the  East  India  Company's  service.' 
This  gentleman,  who  had  acquired  a  large  fortune, 
suddenly  disappeared,  and  was  never  heard  of  more, — at 
least,  as  far  as  I  can  find  from  the  remaining  branches 
of  the  family,  or  from  any  of  the  family  documents." 
(pp.  287  to  289.) 

These  disturbances,  though  not  so  persistent  as  those 
of  Tedworth,  extended  through  two  entire  months, — a 
period  sufficient,  it  would  seem,  for  a  family  so  strong- 
minded  and  stout-hearted  as  the  Wesleys  to  detect  any 
imposture.  And,  unless  we  are  to  suspect  Emily  Wesley 
of  a  superstition  which  her  letters  are  very  far  from 
indicating,  phenomena  of  a  somewhat  similar  character 
accompanied  her  through  a  long  lifetime. 

Dr.  Priestley,  with  all  his  skeptical  leanings,  speaking 

•  **Memoirt  of  the  Wealey  Family,*'  voL  L  p.  236. 


238  Priestley's  and  southey's  opinions. 

of  the  Epworth  narrative,  is  fain  to  admit  that  "it  is 
perhaps  the  best- authenticated  and  the  best-told  story 
of  the  kind  that  is  anywhere  extant."*  He  enters,  how- 
ever, into  an  argument  to  prove  that  there  could  be 
nothing  supernatural  in  it;  for  which  his  chief  reason 
is,  that  he  could  see  no  good  to  be  answered  by  it.  His 
conclusion  is,  "What  appears  most  probable  at  this  dis- 
tance of  time,  in  the  present  case,  is,  that  it  was  a  trick 
of  the  servants,  assisted  by  some  of  the  neighbors;  and 
that  nothing  was  meant  by  it  besides  puzzling  the  family 
and  amusing  themselves;"  a  supposition  which  Dr. 
Clarke  rejects.  He  says,  expressly,  "The  accounts 
given  of  these  disturbances  are  so  circumstantial  and 
authentic  as  to  entitle  them  to  the  most  implicit  credit. 
The  eye  and  ear  witnesses  were  persons  of  strong  under- 
standings and  well-cultivated  minds,  un tinctured  by 
superstition,  and  in  some  instances  rather  skeptically 
inclined."  And  he  adds,  "Nothing  apparently  preter- 
natural can  lie  further  beyond  the  verge  of  imposture 
than  these  accounts;  and  the  circumstantial  statements 
contained  in  them  force  conviction  of  their  truth  on  the 
minds  of  the  incredulous."f 

Sou  they,  in  his  Life  of  Wesley,  gives  the  account  of 
these  disturbances;  and  this  is  his  comment  upon  it: — 

"An  author  who,  in  this  age,  relates  such  a  story  and 
treats  it  as  not  utterly  incredible  and  absurd,  must  ex- 
pect to  be  ridiculed;  but  the  testimony  upon  which  it 
rests  is  far  too  strong  to  be  set  aside  because  of  the 
strangeness  of  the  relation."  .  .  .  "Such  things  may 
be  preternatural,  and  yet  not  miraculous;  they  may  not 
be  in  the  ordinary  course  of  nature,  and  yet  imply  no 
alteration  of  its  laws.  And  with  regard  to  the  good 
end  which  they  may  be  supposed  to  answer,  it  would  be 


*  Dr.  Priestley's  pamphlet  already  cited,  preface,  p.  xi. 
t  "Memoirs  of  the  Wesley  Family,"  vol.  i.  pp.  245,  248. 


COLERIDGE  S   OPINION.  Z89 

end  sufficient  if  sometimes  one  of  those  unhappy  persons 
who,  looking  through  the  dim  glass  of  infidelity,  see 
nothing  beyond  this  life  and  the  narrow  sphere  of  mortal 
existence,  should,  from  the  well-established  truth  of  one 
such  story,  (trifling  and  objectless  as  it  might  otherwise 
appear,)  be  led  to  a  conclusion  that  there  are  more  things 
in  heaven  and  earth  than  are  dreamed  of  in  his  philo- 
sophy." 

Coleridge's  opinion  was  very  different.  In  his  copy 
:)f  Southey's  work,  which  he  left  to  Southey,  he  wrote, 
against  the  story  of  the  Wesley  disturbances,  the  follow- 
ing note: — "All  these  stories,  and  I  could  produce  fifty, 
at  least,  equally  well  authenticated,  and,  as  far  as  the 
veracity  of  the  narrators  and  the  single  fact  of  their 
having  seen  and  heard  such  and  such  sights  or  sounds, 
above  all  rational  skepticism,  are  as  much  like  one  an- 
other as  the  symptoms  of  the  same  disease  in  different 
patients.  And  this,  indeed,  I  take  to  be  the  true  and 
only  solution;  a  contagious  nervous  disease,  the  acme 
or  intensest  form  of  which  is  catalepsy. — S.  T.  C."* 

It  is  an  odd  reason  to  allege  against  the  credibility  of 
such  narratives  that  they  are  very  numerous,  and  that 
in  their  general  character  they  all  agree.  Nor  is  the 
short-cut  by  which  the  poet  reaches  an  explanation  of 
the  phenomena  less  remarkable.  Wesley  and  his  family, 
he  admits,  did  see  and  hear  what  they  allege  they  did; 
but  they  were  all  cataleptics.     What !  the  mastiff  also  ? 

It  is  not  my  purpose,  however,  here  to  comment  on 
these  conflicting  opinions,  but  only  to  submit  them. 
They  all  come  from  men  of  high  character  and  standing, 

I  pass  by  various  records  of  disturbances  similar  to 
the  above,  described  as  occurring  in  England  and  else- 

*  "  Tm  Atylum  Journal  of  Mcvtal  Science"  (published  by  an  Association 
of  Medical  Officers  of  Asylums  and  Hospitals  for  che  Insane)  for  April. 
1868,  London,  p.  395. 


240  THE    NEW    HAVENSACK   CASE. 

where  throughout  the  eighteenth  century,  because  in 
the  details  given  there  is  little  beyond  what  is  to  be 
found  in  the  foregoing,  and  because,  as  none  of  them 
are  vouched  for  by  names  of  such  weight  as  those  which 
attest  the  preceding  examples,  they  will  surely  not  be 
received  if  the  others  be  rejected.  Some  of  these  are 
noticed  in  the  journals  of  the  day :  for  example,  one  re- 
cently disinterred  from  the  columns  of  the  "  New  York 
Packet,"  and  which  appeared  in  its  issue  of  March  10, 
1789.  It  is  in  the  shape  of  a  communication  to  the 
editor,  dated  Fishkill,  March  3,  1789.  The  correspond- 
ent says, — 

"  Were  I  to  relate  the  many  extraordinary,  though 
not  less  true,  accounts  I  have  heard  concerning  that  un- 
fortunate girl  at  New  Havensack,  your  belief  might 
perhaps  be  staggered  and  your  patience  tired.  I  shall 
therefore  only  inform  you  of  what  I  have  been  eye- 
witness to.  Last  afternoon  my  wife  and  myself  went 
to  Dr.  Thorn's;  and,  after  sitting  for  some  time,  we 
heard  a  knocking  under  the  feet  of  a  young  woman 
that  lives  in  the  family.  I  asked  the  doctor  what  occa- 
sioned the  noise.  He  could  not  tell,  but  replied  that  he, 
together  with  several  others,  had  examined  the  house, 
but  were  unable  to  discover  the  cause.  I  then  took  a 
candle  and  went  with  the  girl  into  the  cellar.  There 
the  knocking  also  continued;  but,  as  we  were  ascending 
the  stairs  to  return,  I  heard  a  prodigious  rapping  on 
each  side,  which  alarmed  me  very  much.  I  stood  still 
some  time,  looking  around  with  amazement,  when  J 
beheld  some  lumber  which  lay  at  the  head  of  the  stairs 
dhake  considerably. 

"  About  eight  or  ten  days  after,  we  visited  the  girl 
again.  The  knocking  still  continued,  but  was  much 
louder.  Our  curiosity  induced  us  to  pay  the  third  visit, 
when  the  phenomena  were  still  more  alarming.  I  then 
saw  the  chairs  move;  a  large  dining-table  was  throwjj 


MRS.  OOLDINQ   AND    HEB    MAID.  241 

against  me;  and  a  small  stand,  on  which  stood  a  candle, 
was, tossed  up  and  thrown  in  my  wife's  lap;  after  which 
we  left  the  house,  much  surprised  at  what  we  had  seen." 

Others  were  published  in  pamphlets  at  the  time;  as, 
the  disturbances  in  Mrs.  Golding's  dwelling  and  else- 
where at  Stockwell,  occurring  on  the  6th  and  7th  of 
January,  1772,  chiefly  marked  by  the  moving  about 
and  destruction  of  furniture  in  various  houses,  but 
always  in  the  presence  of  Mrs.  Golding  and  her  maid. 
The  pamphlet  is  reprinted  in  a  modern  publication.* 

This  case,  however,  with  several  others,  including 
that  of  the  "electric  girl"  reported  by  Arago,  seems  to 
belong  to  a  different  class  from  those  I  am  now  relating; 
since  in  the  latter  the  occult  agency  appears  to  have 
attached  itself  to  persons  and  to  have  exhibited  no 
intelligence. 

Two  other  examples,  of  somewhat  later  date,  and  in 
which  the  annoyances  suffered  seem  partly  of  a  local, 
partly  of  a  personal,  character,  will  be  found  in  that 
magazine  of  which  John  Wesley  was  for  many  years 
the  editor.     They  are  probably  from  his  pen.f 

I  pass  on  to  an  example  occurring  at  the  commence- 
ment of  the  present  century  on  the  continent  of  Europe. 


*  By  Mrs.  Crowe,  in  her  "  Night  Side  of  Nature,"  pp.  412  to  422.  The 
pamphlet  ia  entitled  "An  authentic,  candid,  and  circumstantial  narrative  of 
the  astonishing  transactions  at  Stockwell,  in  the  county  of  Surrey,  on 
Monday  and  Tuesday,  the  6th  and  7th  January,  1772,  containing  a  series 
of  the  most  surprising  and  unaccountable  events  that  ever  happened, 
which  continued,  from  first  to  last,  upwards  of  twenty  hours,  and  at  different 
places.  Published  with  the  consent  and  approbation  of  the  family  and 
other  parties  concerned,  to  authenticate  which  the  original  copy  is  signed 
by  them." 

f  For  the  first,  occurring  to  two  sisters  named  Dixon,  see  the  "  Arminiau 
Afagazine"  for  the  year  1786,  pp.  660,  662.  The  disturbances  commenced 
m  1779,  and  are  said  to  have  continued  upward  of  six  years.  The  second 
is  given  in  the  same  magazine  for  1787  ;  commencing  about  a  week  before 
Christmas  in  the  year  1780. 

Q  21 


242  DISTURBANCES   IN   UPPER   SILESIA 

THE  CASTLE  OF  SLAWENSIK. 

Disturbances  in  Upper  FUlesia, 

f 

1806-07. 

In  the  month  of  November,  1806,  Councilor  Hahn, 
attached  to  the  court  of  the  then  reigning  Prince  of 
Hohenlohe  Neuenstein-Ingelfingen,  received  orders  from 
that  prince  to  proceed  to  one  of  his  castles  in  Upper 
Silesia,  called  Slawensik,  there  to  await  his  orders.  Hahn 
was  accompanied  by  a  certain  Charles  Kern,  cornet  in 
a  hussar  regiment,  who  had  been  taken  prisoner  by  the 
French  in  a  recent  campaign  against  the  Prussians,  and 
had  just  returned  on  parole. 

Both  Hahn  and  Kern  were  in  good  health,  and  were 
men  free  from  all  taint  of  superstition.  Hahn  had 
been  a  student  of  philosophy  under  Fichte,  was  an  ad- 
mirer of  Kant's  doctrines,  and  at  that  time  a  confirmed 
materialist. 

Having  been  intimate  friends  in  youth,  they  occupied 
at  Slawensik  the  same  chamber.  It  was  a  corner  room 
on  the  first  floor,  the  windows  looking  out  on  the  north 
and  east.  On  the  right,  as  one  entered  this  room,  was 
a  glass  door,  opening  through  a  wainscot  partition  into 
another  room,  in  which  household  utensils  were  kept. 
This  door  was  always  kept  locked.  Neither  in  this 
latter  room  nor  in  that  occupied  by  the  two  friends  was 
there  any  opening  communicating  from  without,  except 
the  windows.  No  one  at  that  time  resided  in  the 
castle  besides  Hahn  and  Kern,  except  Hahn's  servant 
and  two  of  the  prince's  coachmen. 

It  was  under  these  circumstances  and  in  this  locality 
that  the  following  disturbances  occurred.  They  were 
written  out  by  Hahn  in  November,  1808 ;  and  in  1828 
the  manuscript  was  communicated  by  the  writer  to  Dr. 
Kemer,  the  author  of  the  "  Seeress  of  Prevorst,"  and  by 


THE    CASTLE    OP   8LAWEN8IK.  243 

him  first  published  as  confirmatory  of  somewhat  simihr 
phenomena  witnessed  by  himself  in  the  case  of  the  seeress. 
1  translate  the  chief  part  of  Hahn's  narrative,  omitting 
some  portions  in  which  he  relates  what  others  had 
reported  to  him;  premising  that  it  is  written  in  the  third 
person. 

"On  the  third  evening  after  their  arrival  in  the 
(^astle,  the  two  friends  were  sitting  reading  at  a  table 
in  the  middle  of  the  room.  About  nine  o'clock  their 
occupation  was  interrupted  by  the  frequent  falling  of 
small  bits  of  lime  over  the  room.  They  examined  the 
ceiling,  but  could  perceive  no  signs  of  their  having  fallen 
thence.  As  they  were  conversing  of  this,  still  larger 
pieces  of  lime  fell  around  them.  This  lime  was  cold  to 
the  touch,  as  if  detached  from  an  outside  wall. 

"  They  finally  set  it  down  to  the  account  of  the  old 
walls  of  the  castle,  and  went  to  bed  and  to  sleep.  The 
next  morning  they  were  astonished  at  the  quantity  of 
lime  that  covered  the  floor,  the  more  so  as  they  could  not 
perceive  on  walls  or  ceiling  the  slightest  appearance  of 
injury.  By  evening,  however,  the  incident  was  forgotten, 
until  not  only  the  same  phenomenon  recurred,  but  bits 
of  lime  were  thrown  about  the  room,  several  of  which 
struck  Hahn.  At  the  same  time  loud  knockings,  like 
the  reports  of  distant  artillery,  were  heard,  sometimes 
as  if  on  the  floor,  sometimes  as  if  on  the  ceiling.  Again 
the  friends  went  to  bed ;  but  the  loudness  of  the  knocks 
prevented  their  sleeping.  Kern  accused  Hahn  of  caus- 
ing the  knockings  by  striking  on  the  boards  that  formed 
the  under  portion  of  his  bedstead,  and  was  not  con- 
vinced 01  the  contrary  till  he  had  taken  the  light  and 
examined  for  himself  Then  Hahn  conceived  a  similar 
suspicion  of  Kern.  The  dispute  was  settled  by  both 
rising  and  standing  close  together,  during  which  time 
:he  knockings  continued  as  before.  Next  evening, 
besides  the  throwing  of  lime  and  the  knockings,  they 


244  DISTURBANCES   IN 

heard  another  sound,  resembling  the  distant  beating  of 
a  drum. 

"  Thereupon  they  requested  of  a  lady  who  had  charge 
of  the  castle,  Madame  Knittel,  the  keys  of  the  rooms 
above  and  below  them;  which  she  immediately  sent 
them  by  her  son.  Hahn  remained  in  the  chamber 
below,  while  Kern  and  young  Knittel  went  to  examine 
the  apartments  in  question.  Above  they  found  an 
empty  room,  below  a  kitchen.  They  knocked  j  but  the 
sounds  were  entirely  different  from  those  that  they  had 
heard,  and  which  Hahn  at  that  very  time  continued  to 
hear,  in  the  room  below.  When  they  returned  from 
their  search,  Hahn  said,  jestingly, '  The  place  is  haunted/ 
They  again  went  to  bed,  leaving  the  candles  burning; 
but  things  became  still  more  serious,  for  they  distinctly 
heard  a  sound  as  if  some  one  with  loose  slippers  on 
were  walking  across  the  room;  and  this  was  accom- 
panied also  with  a  noise  as  of  a  walking-stick  on  which 
some  one  was  leaning,  striking  the  floor  step  by  stej); 
the  person  seeming,  as  far  as  one  could  judge  by  the 
sound,  to  be  walking  up  and  down  the  room.  Hahn 
jested  at  this,  Kern  laughed,  and  both  went  to  sleep, 
still  not  seriously  disposed  to  ascribe  these  strange  phe- 
nomena to  any  supernatural  source. 

"Next  evening,  however,  it  seemed  impossible  to  as- 
cribe the  occurrences  to  any  natural  cause.  The  agency, 
whatever  it  was,  began  to  throw  various  articles  about 
the  room;  knives,  forks,  brushes,  caps,  slippers,  padlocks, 
a  funnel,  snuffers,  soap,  in  short,  whatever  was  loose 
about  the  apartment.  Even  candlesticks  flew  about, 
first  from  one  corner,  then  from  another.  If  the  things 
had  been  left  lying  as  they  fell,  the  whole  room  would 
have  been  strewed  in  utter  confusion.  At  the  same, 
time,  there  fell,  at  intervals,  more  lime;  but  the  knock- 
ings  were  discontinued.  Then  the  friends  called  up  the 
two    coachmen   and    Hahn's    servant,    besides   young 


UPPER    SILESIA.  245 

Knittel,  the  watchman  of  the  caetle,  and  others;  all  of 
whom  were  witnesses  of  these  disturbances." 

This  continued  for  several  nights;  but  all  was  usually 
quiet  by  morning, — sometimes  by  one  o'clock  at  night. 
Ilulm  continues: — 

"  From  the  table,  under  their  very  eyes,  snuffers  and 
knives  would  occasionally  rise,  remain  some  time  in  the 
air,  and  then  fall  to  the  floor.  In  this  way  a  large  pair 
of  scissors  belonging  to  Hahn  fell  between  him  and  one 
of  the  coachmen,  and  remained  sticking  in  the  floor. 

*'For  a  few  nights  it  intermitted,  then  recommenced 
as  before.  After  it  had  continued  about  three  weeks, 
(during  all  which  time  Hahn  persisted  in  remaining  in 
the  same  apartment,)  tired  out,  at  length,  with  the 
noises  which  continually  broke  their  rest,  the  two  friends 
resolved  to  have  their  beds  removed  into  the  corner 
room  above,  so  as  to  obtain,  if  possible,  a  quiet  night's 
sleep.  But  the  change  was  unavailing.  The  same  loud 
knockings  followed  them;  and  they  even  remarked  that 
articles  were  flung  about  the  room  which  they  were 
quite  certain  they  had  left  in  the  chamber  below.  'Let 
them  fling  as  they  will,'  exclaimed  Hahn;  <I  must  have 
sleep!'  Kern,  half  undressed,  paced  the  room  in  deep 
thought.  Suddenly  he  stopped  before  a  mirror,  into 
which  he  chanced  to  look.  After  gazing  upon  it  for  some 
ten  minutes,  he  began  to  tremble,  turned  deadly  pale, 
and  moved  away.  Hahn,  thinking  that  he  had  been 
suddenly  taken  ill  from  the  cold,  hastened  to  hin  and 
threw  a  cloak  over  his  shoulders.  Then  Kern,  naturally 
a  fearless  man,  took  courage,  and  related  to  his  friend, 
though  still  with  quivering  lips,  that  he  had  seen  in  the 
mirror  the  appearance  of  a  female  figure,  in  white,  look- 
ing at  him,  and  apparently  before  him,  for  he  could  see 
the  reflection  of  himself  behind  it.  It  was  some  time 
before  he  could  persuade  himself  that  he  really  saw  this 
figure;  and  for  that  reason  he  remained  so  long  before 


246  THE   DRAGOON    OFFICERS. 

the  glass.  Willingly  would  he  have  believed  that  it  was 
a  mere  trick  of  his  imagination;  but  as  the  figure  looked 
at  him  full  in  the  face,  and  he  could  perceive  its  eyes 
move,  a  shudder  passed  over  him,  and  he  turned  away. 
Hahn  instantly  went  to  the  mirror  and  called  upon  the 
image  to  show  itself  to  him;  but,  though  he  remained  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  before  it,  and  often  repeated  his  in- 
vocation, he  saw  nothing.  Kern  told  him  that  the  figure 
exhibited  old  but  not  disagreeable  features,  very  pale 
but  tranquil-looking;  and  that  its  head  was  covered  with 
white  drapery,  so  that  the  face  only  appeared.  .  .  . 

"By  this  time  a  month  had  passed;  the  story  of  these 
disturbances  had  spread  over  the  neighborhood,  and  had 
been  received  by  many  with  incredulity;  among  the  rest, 
by  two  Bavarian  officers  of  dragoons,  named  Cornet  and 
Magerle.  The  latter  proffered  to  remain  alone  in  the 
room;  so  the  others  left  him  there  about  twilight.  But 
they  had  been  but  a  short  time  in  the  opposite  room, 
when  they  heard  Magerle  swearing  loudly,  and  also 
sounds  as  of  saber-blows  on  tables  and  chairs.  So,  for 
the  sake  of  the  furniture  at  least,  they  judged  it  prudent 
to  look  in  upon  Magerle.  When  they  asked  him  what 
was  the  matter,  he  replied,  in  a  fury,  'As  soon  as  you 
left,  the  cursed  thing  began  pelting  me  with  lime  and 
other  things.  I  looked  everywhere,  but  could  see  no- 
body; so  I  got  in  a  rage,  and  cut  with  my  saber  right 
and  left.' "... 

This  was  enough  for  the  dragoon-officers.  Hahn  and 
Kern,  meanwhile,  had  become  so  much  accustomed  to 
these  marvels  that  they  joked  and  amused  themselves 
with  them.     At  last, — 

"Hahn  resolved  that  he  would  investigate  them  se- 
riously. He  accordingly^,  one  evening,  sat  down  at  his 
writing-table,  with  two  lighted  candles  before  him;  being 
BO  placed  that  he  could  observe  the  whole  room,  and 
especially  all  the  windows  and  doors.     He  was  left,  foi* 


OTHER   WITNESSES.  £47 

a  time,  entirely  alone  in  tne  castle,  the  coachmen  being 
in  the  stables,  and  Kern  having  gone  out.  Yet  the  very 
same  occurrences  took  place  as  before;  nay,  the  snuffers, 
under  his  very  eyes,  were  raised  and  whirled  about. 
He  kept  the  strictest  watch  on  the  doors  and  windows; 
but  nothing  could  be  discovered. 

"Several  other  persons  witnessed  these  phenomena,  at 
various  times;  a  bookseller  named  Dorfel,  and  the  Head 
Kanger  Radezensky.  This  last  remained  with  them  all 
night.  But  no  rest  had  he.  He  was  kept  awake  with 
constant  peltings.  .  .  . 

"Inspector  Knetch,  from  Koschentin,  resolved  to 
spend  a  night  with  Hahn  and  Kern.  There  was  no  end 
of  the  peltings  they  had  during  the  evening;  but  finally 
they  retired  to  rest,  leaving  the  candles  burning.  Then 
all  three  saw  two  table-napkins  rise  to  the  ceiling  in  the 
middle  of  the  room,  there  spread  themselves  out,  and 
finally  drop,  fluttering,  to  the  floor.  A  porcelain  pipe- 
bowl,  belonging  to  Kern,  flew  around  and  broke  to 
pieces.  Knives  and  forks  flew  about;  a  knife  fell  on 
Hahn's  head,  striking  him,  however,  with  the  handle 
only.  Thereupon  it  was  resolved,  as  these  disturbances 
had  now  continued  throughout  two  months,  to  move  out 
of  the  room.  Kern  and  Hahn's  servant  carried  a  bed 
into  the  opposite  chamber.  No  sooner  had  they  gone, 
than  a  chalybeate  water-bottle  that  was  standing  in  the 
room  moved  close  to  the  feet  of  the  two  who  remained 
behind.  A  brass  candlestick  also,  that  appeared  to  come 
out  of  a  corner  of  the  room,  fell  to  the  ground,  before 
them.  In  the  room  to  which  they  removed,  they  spent 
a  tolerably  quiet  night,  though  they  could  still  hear 
noises  in  the  room  they  had  left.  This  was  the  last  dis- 
turbance." 

Hahn  winds  up  his  narration  as  follows: — 

"The  story  remained  a  mystery.  All  reflection  on 
these  strange  occurrences,  all  investigation,  though  most 


248  ATTESTATION 

carefully  made,  to  discover  natural  causes  for  them,  left 
the  observers  in  darkness.  No  one  could  suggest  any- 
possible  means  of  effecting  them,  even  had  there  been, 
which  there  was  not,  in  the  village  or  the  neighborhood, 
any  one  capable  of  sleight  of  hand.  And  what  motive 
could  there  be?  The  old  castle  was  worth  nothing,  ex- 
cept to  its  owner.  In  short,  one  can  perceive  no  ima- 
ginable purpose  in  the  whole  affair.  It  resulted  but  in 
the  disturbing  of  some  men,  and  in  the  frightening 
of  others;  but  the  occupants  of  the  room  became,  during 
the  two  entire  months  that  the  occurrence  lasted,  as 
much  accustomed  to  them  as  one  can  become  to  any 
daily  recurring  annoyance."* 

The  above  narrative  is  subscribed  and  attested  by 
Hahn  as  follows : — 

"I  saw  and  heard  every  thing,  exactly  as  here  set 
down;  observing  the  whole  carefully  and  quietly.  I 
experienced  no  fear  whatever;  yet  I  am  wholly  unable 
to  account  for  the  occurrences  narrated. 

"Written  this  19th  of  November,  1808. 

"Councilor  Hahn." 

Dr.  Kerner,  in  the  fourth  edition  of  his  "  Seherin  von 
Prevorst,"  informs  us  that  the  above  narrative,  when 
first  printed  by  him,  called  forth  various  conjectured  ex- 
planations of  the  mystery;  the  most  plausible  of  which 
was,  that  Kern,  being  an  adept  in  sleight  of  hand,  had, 
for  his  amusement,  thus  made  sport  of  his  companion. 
When  the  doctor  communicated  this  surmise  to  Hahn, 
the  latter  replied  that,  if  there  were  no  other  cause  for 
rejecting  such  a  suspicion,  the  thing  was  rendered  abso- 
lutely impossible  by  the  fact  that  some  of  the  manifest- 
ations occurred  not  only  when  he,  Hahn,  was  entirely 
alone  in  the  room,  but  even  when  Kern  was  temporarily 
aDsent  on  a  journey.     He  adds,  that  Kern  again  and 

♦  "Die  Seherin  voH  Prevorst,"  4th  ed.,  Stuttgart,  1846,  pp.  496  to  604 


LETTER   FROM   COUNCILOR   HAHN.  249 

again  urged  him  to  leave  the  room;  hut  that  he,  (Hahn,) 
Btill  hoping  to  discover  some  natural  explanation  of  these 
events,  persisted  in  remaining.  Their  chief  reason  for 
leaving  at  last  was  Kern's  regret  for  the  destruction  of 
his  favorite  pipe,  an  article  of  value,  which  he  had  bought 
in  Berlin,  and  which  he  highly  prized.  He  adds,  that 
Kern  died  of  a  nervous  fever,  in  the  autumn  of  1807. 

Writing  to  Dr.  Kerner  on  the  subject,  from  Ingelfingen, 
under  date  24th  August,  1828,  that  is,  more  than  twenty 
years  after  the  events  occurred,  Hahn  says,  "  1  omitted 
no  possible  precautions  to  detect  some  natural  cause.  I 
am  usually  accused  of  too  great  skepticism  rather  than 
of  superstition.  Cowardice  is  not  my  fault,  as  those 
who  know  me  intimately  will  testify.  I  could  rely, 
therefore,  on  myself;  and  I  can  have  been  under  no  illu- 
sion as  to  the  facts,  for  I  often  asked  the  spectators, 
'  What  did  you  see  V  and  each  time  from  their  replies  I 
learned  that  they  had  seen  exactly  the  same  as  I  did 
myself  .  .  .  "I  am  at  this  moment  entirely  at  a  loss 
to  assign  any  cause,  or  even  any  reasonable  surmise,  in 
explanation  of  these  events.  To  me,  as  to  all  who  wit- 
nessed them,  they  have  remained  a  riddle  to  this  day. 
One  must  expect  hasty  judgments  to  be  passed  on  such 
occurrences;  and  even  in  relating  what  has  not  only 
been  seen  by  oneself  but  also  by  others  yet  alive,  one 
must  be  satisfied  to  incur  the  risk  of  being  regarded  as 
the  dupe  of  an  illusion."* 

Dr.  Kerner  further  adds,  that,  in  the  year  1830,  a  gen- 
tleman of  the  utmost  respectability,  residing  in  Stuttgart, 
visited  Slawensik  for  the  purpose  of  verifying  the  above 
narrative.  He  there  found  persons  who  ridiculed  the 
whole  as  a  deceit;  but  the  only  two  men  he  met  with, 
survivors  of  those  who  had  actually  witnessed  tho 
events,  confirmed  to  him  the  accuracy  of  Hahn's  narra- 
live  in  every  particular. 

*  "Seherin  von  Prevortt,"  pp.  506,  607. 


250  TWENTY-FIVE   YEARS   AFTER. 

This  gentleman  further  ascertained  that  the  Castle 
of  Slawensik  had  been  since  destroyed,  and  that,  in 
clearing  away  the  ruins,  there  was  found  a  male  skeleton 
walled  in  and  without  coffin,  with  the  skull  split  open. 
By  the  si^e  of  this  skeleton  lay  a  sword. 

This  being  communicated  to  Hahn,  he  replies,  very 
rationally,  '-One  may  imagine  some  connection  between 
the  discovered  skeleton,  the  female  image  seen  by  Kern, 
and  the  disturbances  we  witnessed;  but  who  can  really 
know  any  thing  about  it?"     And  he  adds,  finally, — 

•'It  matters  nothing  to  me  whether  others  believe  my 
narrative  or  not.  I  recollect  very  well  what  I  myself 
thought  of  such  things  before  I  had  actually  witnessed 
them,  and  I  take  it  ill  of  nobody  that  he  should  pass 
upon  them  the  same  judgment  which  I  would  have 
passed  previous  to  experience.  A  hundred  witnesses 
will  work  no  conviction  in  those  who  have  made  up 
their  minds  never  to  believe  in  any  thing  of  the  kind. 
I  give  myself  no  trouble  about  such  persons;  for  it  would 
be  labor  lost." 

This  last  letter  of  Hahn's  is  dated  May,  1831.  During 
a  quarter  of  a  century,  therefore,  he  retained,  and  re- 
iterated, his  conviction  of  the  reality  and  unexplained 
jjharacter  of  the  disturbances  at  Slawensik. 

From  the  same  source  whence  the  above  is  derived,  i 
uelect  another  example,  of  a  later  date,  and  which  has 
the  advantage  of  having  been  witnessed  by  Kerner 
himself, 

THE  SEERESS  OF  PREVORST. 

Disturbances  in  the  village  of  Obersten/eld, 


Amid  the  mountains  of  Northern  Wurtemberg,  in  the 
village  of  Prevorst,  there  was  born,  in  the  year  1801^ 
Madame  Fredericke  Hauffe,  since  well  known  to  the 


THE   8EERE88    O?  P&EV0R8T.  251 

world  through  Dr.  Kerner's  history  of  her  life  and 
Bufferings,  as  the  "  Seeress  of  Prevorst/'* 

Even  as  a  child  Madame  Hauffe  was  in  the  habit  ot 
seeing  what  she  believed  to  be  disembodied  spirits,  not 
usually  perceptible,  however,  by  those  around  her;  and 
this  peculiarity,  whether  actual  faculty  or  mere  halluci- 
nation, accompanied  her  through  life. 

Kerner  gives  many  examples.  Throughout  the  year 
1825,  while  residing  in  the  village  of  Oberstenfeld,  not 
far  from  Lowenstein,  in  the  northern  portion  of  the 
kingdom  of  Wurtemberg,  Madame  Hauffe  was  visited, 
or  believed  herself  to  be  so,  by  the  appearance,  usually 
in  the  evening,  about  seven  o'clock,  of  a  male  figure  of 
dark  complexion,  which,  she  alleged,  constantly  begged 
for  her  prayers.  With  the  question  of  the  reality  of 
this  appearance  I  have  here  nothing  to  do ;  but  I  invite 
attention  to  the  attendant  circumstances.  Kerner 
says,— 

"  Each  time  before  he  appeared,  his  coming  was  an- 
nounced to  all  present,  without  exception,  by  the  sound 
of  knockings  or  rappings,  sometimes  on  one  wall,  some- 
times on  another,  sometimes  by  a  sort  of  clapping  in 

*  "Die  Seherin  von  Prevortt,  Eroffnungen  iiber  das  innere  Leben  dat 
Menschen,  und  iiber  das  HereinragcD  einer  Qeisterwelt  in  die  unsere."  By 
Justinus  Kerner,  4th  ed.,  Stuttgart  and  Tubingen,  1846,  8vo,  pp.  559. 

This  work,  of  which  there  is  an  English  translation  by  Mrs.  Crowe,  at- 
tracted much  attention  and  criticism  at  the  time  of  its  first  appearance,  and 
Bince.  It  was  reviewed  in  the  "  Revue  des  Deux  Mondes"  of  July  15,  1842, 
and  there  spoken  of  as  *'  one  of  the  most  strange  and  most  conscientiously 
elaborated  works  that  has  ever  appeared  on  such  a  subject"  Of  Dr.  Kerner 
himself  the  reviewer  speaks  as  one  of  the  ornaments  of  Germany. 

Another  Review,  of  February,  1846,  notices  in  terms  equally  favorabla 
the  work  and  its  author.  It  accords  to  Kerner  a  high  reputation  in  hit 
own  country,  not  only  as  physician,  but  for  his  literary  talents,  and  as  a  man 
of  learning  and  of  piety, — a  man  whose  sincerity  and  good  faith  cannot  be 
doubted  even  by  the  most  skeptical.  The  reviewer  further  declares  that  the 
book  itself  contains  many  truths  which  will  have  to  be  admitted  into  ovr 
tyftem  of  physiology  and  psychology. 


Z\yZ  A    HOUSE    SHAKEN. 

the  air,  and  other  sounds,  in  the  middle  of  the  room, 
Of  this  there  are  still  living  more  than  twenty  unim- 
peachable witnesses. 

"  By  day  and  by  night  were  heard  the  sounds  of  some 
une  going  up-stairs ;  but,  seek  as  we  would,  it  was  im- 
possible to  discover  any  one.  In  the  cellar  the  same 
knockings  were  heard,  and  they  increased  in  loudness. 
If  the  knocking  was  heard  behind  a  barrel,  and  if  any 
one  ran  hastily  to  look  behind  it  and  detect  the  cause, 
the  knockings  immediately  changed  to  the  front  of  the 
barrel;  and  when  one  returned  to  the  front  they  were 
again  heard  behind.  The  same  thing  occurred  when  it 
knocked  on  the  walls  of  the  room.  If  the  knockings 
were  heard  outside,  and  one  ran  suddenly  out  to  the 
spot,  it  immediately  knocked  inside )  and  vice  versa. 

"If  the  kitchen  door  was  fastened  at  night  ever  so 
securely,  even  tied  with  twine,  it  stood  open  in  the 
morning.  It  was  constantly  heard  to  open  and  shut; 
yet,  though  one  might  rush  to  it  instantly,  no  one  could 
be  seen  to  enter  or  depart. 

"  Once,  at  about  eleven  o'clock  at  night,  the  disturb- 
ance was  so  violent  that  it  shook  the  whole  house;  and 
the  heavy  beams  and  rafters  moved  back  and  forth. 
Madame  Hauffe's  father,  on  this  occasion,  had  nearly 
decided  to  abandon  the  house  the  next  day."  .  .  . 

"  The  poundings  and  cracking  of  the  house  were  heard 
by  passers-by  in  the  street.  At  other  times  the  knock- 
ings in  the  cellar  had  been  such  that  all  those  who  were 
passing  stopped  to  listen. 

"  Glasses  were  often  removed  from  the  table,  (and,  on 
one  occasion,  the  bottle,)  as  if  by  an  invisible  hand,  and 
placed  on  the  floor.  So  also  the  paper  was  taken  from 
her  father's  writing-table,  and  thrown  at  him. 

"  Madame  Hauffe  visited  Lowenstein ;  and  there  also 
the  knockings  and  rappings  were  heard." 

The  last  of  the  alleged  visits  of  this  spirit  was  on  the 


THE   LAW-SUIT  263 

6tii  of  January,  1826.     The  above  occurrences  had  been 
repeated,  at  intervals,  throughout  an  entire  year. 

There  are  various  other  examples  of  similar  character 
in  Kerner's  book;  but  it  is  useless  to  multiply  them. 

As  we  approach  our  own  time,  the  records  of  such 
disturbances  as  we  are  here  examining  so  increase  in 
number  that  space  fails  me  to  reproduce  them.  I  select 
the  following  as  a  sample,  because  the  evidence  adduced 
in  proof  that  the  phenomena  were  real,  and  that  no  mun- 
dane agency  capable  of  producing  them  was  ever  dis- 
covered, is  of  a  character  such  as  daily  decides  questions 
touching  men's  property  and  lives. 

THE  LAW-SUIT. 

Disturbances  in  a  dwelling-house  near  Edinburghj 

1835. 

This  case  is  remarkable  as  having  given  rise  to  legal 
proceedings  on  the  part  of  the  owner  of  the  house  re- 
puted to  be  haunted.  It  is  related  by  Mrs.  Crowe  in 
her  "  Night  Side  of  Nature ;"  and  the  particulars  were 
communicated  to  her  by  the  gentleman  who  conducted 
the  suit  for  the  plaintiff.*  She  does  not  give  his  name; 
but  from  an  Edinburgh  friend  I  have  ascertained  that 
it  was  Mr.  Maurice  Lothian,  a  Scottish  solicitor,  now 
Procurator  Fiscal  of  the  county  of  Edinburgh. 

A  certain  Captain  Molesworth  rented  the  house  in 
question,  situated  at  Trinity,  two  miles  from  Edinburgh, 
from  a  Mr.  Webster,  in  May,  1835.  After  two  months' 
residence  there,  the  captain  began  to  complain  of  certain 
unaccountable  noises,  which,  strangely  enough,  he  took 
it  into  his  head  were  made  by  his  landlord,  Mr.  Webster, 
who  occupied  the  adjoining  dwelling.  The  latter 
naturally  represented  that  it  was  not  probable  he 
"hould   desire   to   damage  the  reputation    of  his   own 

•  "Night  Side  of  Nature,"  Routledge  and  Co.'s  edition,  pp.  445  to  447 
22 


251  DISTURBANCES   OCCURRING 

house,  or  drive  a  responsible  tenant  out  of  it;  and  re- 
torted the  accusation.  Meanwhile  the  disturbances 
continued  daily  and  nightly.  Sometimes  there  was  the 
sound  as  of  invisible  feet ;  sometimes  there  were  knock- 
ings,  scratchings,  or  rustlings,  first  on  one  side,  then  on 
the  other.  Occasionally  the  unseen  agent  seemed  to 
be  rapping  to  a  certain  tune,  and  would  answer,  by  sc 
many  knocks,  any  question  to  which  the  repl}^  was  in 
numbers;  as,  "How  many  persons  are  there  in  this 
room?''  So  forcible  at  times  were  the  poundings  that 
the  wall  trembled  visibly.  Beds,  too,  were  occasionally 
heaved  up,  as  by  some  person  underneath.  Yet,  search 
as  they  would,  no  one  could  be  found.  Captain  Moles- 
worth  caused  the  boards  to  be  lifted  in  the  rooms  where 
the  noises  were  loudest  and  most  frequent,  and  actually 
perforated  the  wall  that  divided  his  residence  from  that 
of  Mr.  Webster;  but  without  the  least  result.  SheriflTs 
ofiicers,  masons,  justices  of  the  peace,  and  the  officers 
of  the  regiment  quartered  at  Leith,  who  were  friends 
of  Captain  Molesworth,  came  to  his  aid,  in  hopes  of  de- 
tecting or  frightening  away  his  tormentor ;  but  in  vain. 
Suspecting  that  it  might  be  some  one  outside  the  house, 
they  formed  a  cordon  round  it;  but  all  to  no  purpose. 
No  solution  of  the  mystery  was  ever  obtained. 

Suit  was  brought  before  the  Sheriff  of  Edinburgh,  by 
Mr.  Webster,  against  Captain  Molesworth,  for  damages 
committed  by  lifting  the  boards,  boring  the  walls,  and 
firing  at  the  wainscot,  as  well  as  for  injury  done  in 
giving  the  house  the  reputation  of  being  haunted,  thus 
preventing  other  tenants  from  renting  it.  On  the  trial, 
the  facts  above  stated  were  all  elicited  by  Mr.  Lothian, 
who  spent  several  hours  in  examining  numerous  wit- 
nesses, some  of  them  officers  of  the  army  and  gentle- 
men of  undoubted  honor  and  capacity  for  observation 

It  remains  to  be  stated  that  Captain  Molesworth  had 
had  two  daughters ;  one  of  whom,  named  Matilda,  bad 


NEAR    £DINBURQn.  255 

lately  died,  while  the  other,  a  girl  between  twelve  and 
thirteen,  named  Jane,  was  sickly  and  usually  kept  her 
bed.  It  being  observed  that  wherever  the  sick  girl  was,  the 
noises  more  frequently  prevailed,  Mr.  Webster  declared 
that  she  made  them;  and  it  would  seem  that  her  father 
himself  must,  to  some  extent,  have  shared  the  sus- 
picion ;  for  the  poor  girl  was  actually  tied  up  in  a  bag, 
so  as  to  prevent  all  possible  agency  on  her  part.  No 
cessation  or  diminution  of  the  disturbance  was,  how- 
ever, obtained  by  this  harsh  expedient. 

The  people  in  the  neighborhood  believed  that  the 
noises  were  produced  by  the  ghost  of  Matilda  warning 
her  sister  that  she  was  soon  to  follow;  and  this  belief  re- 
ceived confirmation  when  that  unfortunate  young  lady, 
whose  illness  may  have  been  aggravated  by  the  severe 
measures  dictated  by  unjust  suspicion,  shortly  after  died. 

Occasionally  such  narratives  are  published  as  mere 
specimens  of  a  vulgar  superstition,  as  by  Mackay,  in  his 
work  on  "  Popular  Delusions."  He  notices,  as  one  of 
the  latest  examples  of  the  panic  occasioned  by  a  house 
supposed  to  be  haunted,  incidents  that  took  place — 
like  those  just  narrated — in  Scotland,  and  that  occurred 
some  twenty  years  ago,  regarding  which  he  supplies 
the  following  particulars. 

THE  FARM-HOUSE  OP  BALDARROCH. 

Disturbances  in  Aberdeenshirej  Scotland, 

1838. 

''  On  the  5th  of  December,  1838,  the  inmates  of  the 
farm-house  of  Baldarroch,  in  the  district  of  Banchory, 
Aberdeenshire,  were  alarmed  by  observing  a  great  num- 
ber of  sticks,  pebble-stones,  and  clods  of  earth  flying 
about  their  yard  and  premises.  They  endeavored,  but 
in  vain,  to  discover  who  was  the  delinquent,  and,  the 


256  THE    FARM-HOUSE   OF   BALDARROCH. 

shower  of  stones  continuing  for  five  days  in  succession 
they  came  at  last  to  the  conclusion  that  the  devil  and 
his  imps  were  alone  the  cause  of  it.  The  rumor  soon 
spread  all  over  that  part  of  the  country,  and  hundreds 
of  persons  came  from  far  and  near  to  witness  the  antics 
of  the  devils  of  Baldarroch.  After  the  fifth  day,  the 
showers  of  clods  and  stones  ceased  on  the  outside  of  the 
premises,  and  the  scene  shifted  to  the  interior.  Spoons, 
knives,  plates,  mustard-pots,  rolling-pins,  and  flat-irons 
appeared  suddenly  endued  with  the  power  of  self-mo- 
tion, and  were  whirled  from  room  to  room,  and  rattled 
down  the  chimneys,  in  a  manner  nobody  could  account 
for.  The  lid  of  a  mustard-pot  was  put  into  a  cupboard 
by  a  servant-girl,  in  the  presence  of  scores  of  people, 
and  in  a  few  minutes  afterward  came  bouncing  down 
the  chimney,  to  the  consternation  of  everybody.  There 
was  also  a  tremendous  knocking  at  the  doors  and  on  the 
roof,  and  pieces  of  stick  and  pebble-stones  rattled  against 
the  windows  and  broke  them.  The  whole  neighborhood 
was  a  scene  of  alarm ;  and  not  only  the  vulgar,  but  per 
sons  6f  education,  respectable  farmers  within  a  circle  ot 
twenty  miles,  expressed  their  belief  in  the  supernatural 
character  of  these  events.'^ 

The  excitement,  Mackay  goes  on  to  state,  spread, 
within  a  week,  over  the  parishes  of  Banchory-Ternan, 
Drumoak,  Durris,  Kincardine  O'Neil,  and  all  the  adja- 
cent district  of  Mearns  and  Aberdeenshire.  It  was 
affirmed  and  believed  that  all  horses  and  dogs  that  ap- 
proached the  farm-house  were  immediately  affected.  The 
mistress  of  the  house  and  the  servant-girls  said  that 
whenever  they  went  to  bed  they  were  pelted  with  peb- 
bles and  other  missiles.  The  farmer  himself  traveled  a 
distance  of  forty  miles  to  an  old  conjurer,  named  Willie 
Foreman,  to  induce  him,  for  a  handsome  fee,  to  remove 
the  enchantment  from  his  property.  The  heritor,  the 
minister,  and  all  the  elders  of  the  kirk  instituted  an  in- 


AN    ALLEGED    DISCOVERT.  257 

vestigation,  which,  however,  does  not  appear  to  have 
had  any  result. 

"After  a  fortnight's  continuance  of  the  noises,"  says 
Mackay,  "  the  whole  trick  was  discovered.  The  two 
servant-lasses  were  strictly  examined,  and  then  com- 
mitted to  prison.  It  appeared  that  they  were  alone  at 
the  bottom  of  the  whole  affair,  and  that  the  extraordinary 
alarm  and  credulity  of  their  master  and  mistress  in  the 
first  instance,  and  of  the  neighbors  and  country-people 
afterwards,  made  their  task  comparatively  easy.  A  little 
common  dexterity  was  all  they  had  used;  and,  being 
themselves  unsuspected,  they  swelled  the  alarm  by  the 
wonderful  stories  they  invented.  It  was  they  who 
loosened  the  bricks  in  the  chimneys  and  placed  the 
dishes  in  such  a  manner  on  the  shelves  that  they  fell  on 
the  slightest  motion."* 

The  proof  that  the  girls  were  the  authors  of  all  the 
mischief  appears  to  have  rested  on  the  fact  that  "  no 
sooner  were  they  secured  in  the  county  gaol  than  the 
noises  ceased;"  and  thus,  says  Mackay,  "most  people 
were  convinced  that  human  agency  alone  had  worked 
all  the  wonder."  Others,  however,  he  admits,  still  held 
out  in  their  first  belief,  and  were  entirely  dissatisfied 
with  the  explanation,  as  indeed  they  very  well  might  be, 
if  we  are  to  trust  to  the  details  given  by  Mackay  himself 
of  these  disturbances. 

For  five  days  a  shower  of  sticks,  stones,  and  clods  of 
earth  are  seen  flying  about  the  yard  and  are  thrown 
against  the  windows.f    Hundreds  of  persons  come  to 


»  "Popular  Delusions,"  vol.  ii.  pp.  133  to  136. 

t  This  phenomenon,  strange  as  it  seems,  is  exactly  paralleled  in  a  recent 
case  recorded  in  the  "  Gazette  des  Tribunaux"  and  noticed  by  De  Mirville 
in  his  work  "  JDea  Esprits,"  pp.  381  to  384.  It  occurred  in  Paris,  in  the 
populous  quarter  of  Montngne-Sainte-Genevi^ve.  A  house  on  the  street  dei 
Oris  was  pelted,  for  twenty-one  nights  in  succession,  by  a  shower  of  heavj 
missiles,  driven  against  it  in  such  quantities,  and  with  such  violence,  thM 
R  22* 


258         OREDULOUSNESS  OP  INCREDULITY. 

witness  the  phenomenon,  and  none  of  them  can  account 
for  it.  Is  it  credible,  is  it  conceivable,  that  two  girls, 
employed  all  day  in  menial  duties  under  the  eye  of  their 
mistress,  should,  by  "  a  little  common  dexterity,"  have 
continued  such  a  practical  joke  for  iSve  hours — to  say 
nothing  of  five  days — without  being  inevitably  detected? 
Then  various  utensils  in  the  house  not  only  move,  as  if 
self-impelled,  about  the  room,  but  are  whirled  from  one 
room  to  another,  or  dropped  down  the  chimney,  in  pre 
sence  of  crowds  of  witnesses.  There  is  a  tremendou. 
knocking  at  the  doors  and  on  the  roof,  and  the  windows 
are  broken  by  sticks  and  pebble-stones  that  rattle 
against  them.  This  farce  is  kept  up  for  ten  days  morey 
making  the  whole  neighborhood  a  scene  of  alarm,  baf- 
fling the  ingenuitj^  of  heritor,  minister,  and  elders ;  and 
■we  are  asked  to  believe  that  it  was  all  a  mere  prank  of 
two  servant-girls,  effected  by  loosening  a  few  bricks  in 
the  chimney  and  placing  the  crockery  so  that  it  fell  on 
slight  motion  !  A  notable  specimen,  surely,  of  the  cre- 
dulousness  of  incredulity ! 

One  can  understand  that  a  court  of  justice  should  ad- 


the  front  of  the  house  was  actually  pierced  in  some  places,  the  doors  and 
windows  were  shattered  to  atoms,  and  the  whole  exhibited  the  appearance  of 
a  building  that  had  stood  a  siege  against  stones  from  catapults  or  discharges 
of  grape-shot.  The  "  Gazette"  says,  "  Whence  come  these  projectiles, 
which  are  pieces  of  pavement,  fragments  of  old  houses,  entire  blocks  of 
building-stone,  which,  from  their  weight  and  from  the  distance  whence  they 
came,  could  not  have  been  hurled  by  the  hand  of  man  ?  Up  to  this  day  it 
has  been  impossible  to  discover  the  cause."  Yet  the  police,  headed  by  the 
Chief  of  Police  himself,  was  out  every  night,  and  placed  a  guard  on  the 
premises  night  and  day.  They  employed,  also,  fierce  dogs  as  guards;  but 
all  in  vain. 

De  Mirville  some  time  afterward  called  personally  on  th»  proprietor  of 
the  house,  and  on  the  Commissary  of  Police  of  that  quarter.  Both  assured 
him  in  the  most  positive  terms  that,  notwithstanding  the  constant  pre- 
cautions  taken  by  a  body  of  men  unmatched  for  vigilance  and  sagacity, 
not  the  slightest  clew  to  the  mystery  had  ever  been  obtained,  (pp.  384. 
to  386.) 


SUNDRY  CASES.  259 

mit,  as  presumptive  proof  against  the  girls,  the  fact  that 
from  the  time  they  were  lodged  in  jail  the  disturbances 
ceased.  With  the  lights  before  them,  the  presumption  was 
not  unreasonable.  But  I  have  already  adduced  some  proof, 
and  shall  hereafter  add  more,*  that  such  disturbances 
appear  to  attach  to  individuals  (or,  in  other  words,  to 
occur  in  certain  localities  in  their  presence)  without 
any  agency — at  least,  any  conscious  agency — on  the  part 
of  those  persons  themselves. 

Other  narratives  of  this  class,  already  in  print,  might 
here  be  introduced,  did  space  permit.  I  instance  one  or 
two. 

In  "  Douglas  Jerrold's  Journal"  of  March  26,  1847,  is 
the  narrative  of  disturbances  in  the  family  of  a  Mr. 
Williams,  residing  in  Moscow  Eoad.  Utensils  and  furni- 
ture were  moved  about  and  destroyed,  almost  exactly 
as  in  the  case  of  Mrs.  Golding  and  her  maid.  There  is 
no  record,  however,  of  any  knockings  on  the  walls  or 
floor. 

A  similar  case  is  detailed  in  the  ^^  Revue  Fran- 
gaise'  for  December,  1846,  as  having  occurred  in  the 
house  of  a  farmer  at  Clairefontaine,  near  Kam- 
bouillet. 

A  narrative  more  remarkable  and  detailed  than 
either  of  these  will  be  found  in  Spicer's  "Facts  and 
Fantasies,"  as  furnished  in  manuscript  to  the  author 
by  Mrs.  E.,  a  lady  of  fortune, — the  disturbances  run- 
ning through  four  yearSj  namely,  from  August,  1844,  to 
September,  1848.  Here  there  were  knockings  and 
trampings  so  loud  as  to  shake  the  whole  house,  besides 

*  Of  such  examples,  one  of  the  most  remarkable  is  that  of  the  so-called 
"  Electric  Girl,"  examined  by  Arago.  I  had  carefully  prepared  a  narrative 
of  this  case  from  the  original  authorities,  intending  to  introduce  it  here;  but, 
finding  this  volume  swelling  beyond  the  dimensions  to  which  I  had  resolved 
(o  restrict  it,  I  threw  the  story  out,  %nd  raay  publish  it  in  a  future  work. 


260  DISTURBANCES   IN 

openings  of  doors  and  windows,  ringing  of  bells,  noises 
as  of  moving  of  furniture,  the  rustling,  in  the  very 
room,  of  a  silk  dress,  the  shaking  of  the  beds  in  which 
they  lay,  the  sound  of  carriages  driving  in  the  park 
when  none  were  there,  &c.  This  narrative  is  sup- 
ported by  the  certificates  of  servants  and  of  a  police 
constable,  who  was  summoned  to  remain  at  night  on 
the  premises  and  to  seek  to  discover  the  cause  of  these 
annoyances.  Some  of  the  servants  left  the  family, 
unable  to  endure  the  terror  and  loss  of  sleep.  Mr.  E. 
himself,  after  struggling  for  years  against  it,  finally  left 

the  estate  of  L ,  where  the  disturbances  took  place, 

with  the  intention  never  to  return  to  it.* 

These  may  be  referred  to  by  the  curious.  The  fol- 
lowing narrative,  however,  is  so  remarkable  in  itself, 
and  comes  to  me  so  directly  from  the  original  source, 
that  it  would  be  doing  injustice  to  the  subject  to  omit 
or  abridge  it. 

THE  CEMETERY  OF  AHRENSBURG. 

Disturbances  in  a  Chapel  in  the  Island  of  Oesel,-f 

1844. 

In  the  immediate  vicinity  of  Ahrensburg,  the  only 
town  in  the  island  of  Oesel,  is  the  public  cemetery. 
Tastefully  laid  out  and  carefully  kept,  planted  with 
trees  and  partly  surrounded  by  a  grove  dotted  with 
evergreens,  it  is  a  favorite  promenade  of  the  inhabit- 
ants. Besides  its  tombs, — in  every  variety,  from  the 
humblest  to  the  most  elaborate, — it  contains  several 
private  chapels,  each  the  burying-place  of  some  family 
of  distinction.      Underneath  each  of  these  is   a  vault, 

*  '*  Facta  and  Fantasies ;"  a  sequel  to  "  Sights  and  Sounds,  the  Mystery 
of  the  Day;"  by  Henry  Spicer,  Esq.,  London,  1853,  pp.  76  to  101. 

f  The  island  of  Oesel,  in  the  Baltic,  is  possessed  by  Russia,  Laving 
been  ceded  to  that  Power,  by  the  Treaty  of  Nystadt,  in  1721.  It  constitutM 
part  of  Livonia. 


THE   ISLAND    OF    OESEL.  261 

paved  with  wood,  to  which  the  descent  is  by  a  stairway 
from  inside  the  chapel  and  closed  by  a  door.  The 
coffins  of  the  members  of  the  family  more  recently  de- 
ceased usually  remain  for  a  time  in  the  chapel.  Thej' 
are  afterward  transferred  to  the  vaults,  and  there 
placed  side  by  side,  elevated  on  iron  bars.  These 
coffins  it  is  the  custom  to  make  of  massive  oak,  very 
heavy  and  strongly  put  together. 

The  public  highway  passes  in  front  of  the  cemetery 
and  at  a  short  distance  therefrom.  Conspicuous,  and  to 
be  seen  by  the  traveler  as  he  rides  by,  are  three  chapels, 
facing  the  highway.  Of  these  the  most  spacious, 
adorned  with  pillars  in  front,  is  that  belonging  to  the 
family  of  Buxhoewden,  of  patrician  descent,  and  ori- 
ginally from  the  city  of  Bremen.  It  has  been  their 
place  of  interment  for  several  generations. 

It  was  the  habit  of  the  country-people,  coming  in  on 
horseback  or  with  carts  on  a  visit  to  the  cemetery,  to 
fasten  their  horses,  usually  with  very  stout  halters,  im- 
mediately in  front  of  this  chapel,  and  close  to  the  pillars 
that  adorned  it.  This  practice  continued,  notwith- 
standing that,  for  some  eight  or  ten  years  previous  to 
the  incidents  about  to  be  narrated,  there  had  been  from 
time  to  time  vague  rumors  of  a  mysterious  kind  con- 
nected with  the  chapel  in  question  as  being  haunted, — 
rumors  which,  however,  as  they  could  not  be  traced  to 
any  reliable  source,  were  little  credited  and  wero 
treated  by  its  owners  with  derision. 

The  chief  season  of  resort  to  the  cemetery  by  per- 
sons from  all  parts  of  the  island  whose  relatives  lay 
buried  there  was  on  Pentecost  Sunday  and  the  succeed- 
ing days, — these  being  there  observed  much  in  the  same 
manner  as  in  most  Catholic  countries  All-Souls  Day 
usually  is.* 

*  The  religion  of  the  island  is  the  Protestant;  though  of  late  years  a^ 
tempts  have  been  made  to  procure  converts  to  the  Greek  Church. 


262  UNACCOUNTABLE    EFFECTS 

On  the  second  day  of  Pentecost,  Monday,  the  22d 
of  June,  (New  Style,)  in  the  year  1844,  the  wife  of  a 
certain  tailor  named  Dalmann,  living  in  Ahrensburg,  had 
come  with  a  horse  and  small  cart  to  visit,  with  her  chil- 
dren, the  tomb  of  her  mother,  situated  behind  the  Bux- 
hoewden  family  chapel,  and  had  fastened  her  horse,  as 
usual,  in  front  of  it,  without  unharnessing  him,  pro- 
posing, as  soon  as  she  had  completed  her  devotions,  to 
visit  a  friend  in  the  country. 

While  kneeling  in  silent  prayer  by  the  grave,  she  had 
an  indistinct  perception,  as  she  afterward  remembered, 
that  she  heard  some  noises  in  the  direction  of  the 
chapel;  but,  absorbed  in  other  thoughts,  she  paid  at  the 
time  no  attention  to  it.  Her  prayers  completed,  and 
returning  to  prosecute  her  journey,  she  found  her 
horse — usually  a  quiet  animal — in  an  inexplicable  state 
of  excitement.  Covered  with  sweat  and  foam,  its  limbs 
trembh'ng,  it  appeared  to  be  in  mortal  terror.  When 
she  led  it  off,  it  seemed  scarcely  able  to  walk;  and,  in- 
stead of  proceeding  on  her  intended  excursion,  she  found 
herself  obliged  to  return  to  town  and  to  call  a  veterinary 
surgeon.  He  declared  that  the  horse  must  have  been 
excessively  terrified  from  some  cause  or  other,  bled  it, 
administered  a  remedy,  and  the  animal  recovered. 

A  day  or  two  afterward,  this  woman,  coming  to  the 
chateau  of  one  of  the  oldest  noble  families  of  Livonia, 
the  Barons  de  Guldenstubbe,  near  Ahrensburg,  as  was 
her  wont,  to  do  needle-work  for  the  family,  related  to  the 
baron  the  strange  incident  which  had  occurred  to  her. 
He  treated  it  lightly,  imagining  that' the  woman  exag- 
gerated, and  that  her  horse  might  have  been  accidentally 
frightened. 

The  circumstance  would  have  been  soon  forgotten 
had  it  not  been  followed  by  others  of  a  similar  cha- 
racter. The  following  Sunday  several  persons,  who 
had    attached    their    horses    in    front    of    the    same 


PftODUCED   ON   ANIMALS.  203 

chapel,  reported  that  they  found  them  coverea  with 
sweat,  tremoling,  and  in  the  utmost  terror  j  and  some 
among  them  added  that  they  had  themselves  heard, 
seeming  to  proceed  from  the  vaults  of  the  chapel, 
rumbling  sounds,  which  occasionally  (but  this  might 
have  been  the  effect  of  imagination)  assumed  the  cha- 
racter of  groans. 

And  this  was  but  the  prelude  to  further  disturbances, 
gradually  increasing  in  frequency.  One  day  in  the 
course  of  the  next  month  (July)  it  happened  that 
eleven  horses  were  fastened  close  to  the  columns  of  the 
chapel.  Some  persons,  passing  near  by,  and  hearing,  as 
they  alleged,  loud  noises,*  as  if  issuing  from  beneath  the 
building,  raised  the  alarm;  and  when  the  owners  reached 
the  spot  they  found  the  poor  animals  in  a  pitiable  con- 
dition. Several  of  them,  in  their  frantic  efforts  to 
escape,  had  thrown  themselves  on  the  ground,  and  lay 
struggling  there;  others  were  scarcely  able  to  walk  or 
btand;  and  all  were  violently  affected,  so  that  it  became 
necessary  immediately  to  resort  to  bleeding  and  other 
means  of  relief  In  the  case  of  three  or  four  of  them 
these  means  proved  unavailing.  They  died  within  a 
day  or  two. 

This  was  serious.  And  it  was  the  cause  of  a  formal 
complaint  being  made  by  some  of  the  sufferers  to  the 
Consistory, — a  court  holding  its  sittings  at  Ahrensburg 
and  having  charge  of  ecclesiastical  affairs. 

About  the  same  time,  a  member  of  the  Buxhoewden 
family  died.  At  his  funeral,  during  the  reading  in  the 
chapel  of  the  service  for  the  dead,  what  seemed  groans 
and  other  strange  noises  were  heard  from  beneath,  to 

*  Oetdae  was  the  German  word  employed  by  the  narrator  in  speaking  to 
me  of  these  sounds.  It  is  the  term  often  used  to  designate  the  rolling  of 
distant  thunder.     Schiller  says,  in  his  "  Tamher" — 

**Und  wie  mit  des  fernen  Donner's  Get<j8e— /' 


264  THE    DISTURBANCES    LEAD    TO 

the  great  terror  of  some  of  the  assistants,  the  servants 
especially.  The  horses  attached  to  the  hearse  and  to 
the  mourning-coaches  were  sensibly  aifected,  but  not  so 
violently  as  some  of  the  others  had  been.  After  the 
interment,  three  or  four  of  those  v^^ho  had  been  present, 
bolder  than  their  neighbors,  descended  to  the  vault. 
While  there  they  heard  nothing;  but  they  found,  to 
their  infinite  surprise,  that,  of  the  numerous  coffins 
which  had  been  deposited  there  in  due  order  side  by 
side,  almost  all  had  been  displaced  and  lay  in  a  con- 
fused pile.  They  sought  in  vain  for  any  cause  that 
might  account  for  this.  The  doors  were  always  kept 
carefully  fastened,  and  the  locks  showed  no  signs  of 
having  been  tampered  with.  The  coffins  were  replaced 
in  due  order. 

This  incident  caused  much  talk,  and,  of  course,  at- 
tracted additional  attention  to  the  chapel  and  the  al- 
leged disturbances.  Children  were  loft  to  watch  the 
horses  when  any  were  fastened  in  its  vicinity;  but 
they  were  usually  too  much  frightened  to  remain ;  and 
some  of  them  even  alleged  that- they  had  seen  some 
dark-looking  specters  hovering  in  the  vicinity.  The 
stories,  however,  related  by  them  on  this  latter  head 
were  set  down — ^reasonably  enough,  perhaps — to  ac- 
count of  their  excited  fears.  But  parents  began  to 
scruple  about  taking  their  children  to  the  cemetery 
at  all. 

The  excitement  increasing,  renewed  complaints  on 
the  subject  reached  the  Consistory,  and  an  inquiry  into 
the  matter  was  proposed.  The  owners  of  the  chapel  at 
first  objected  to  this,  treating  the  matter  as  a  trick  or  a 
scandal  set  on  foot  by  their  enemies.  But  though  they 
carefully  examined  the  floor  of  the  vault,  to  make  sure 
that  no  one  had  entered  from  beneath,  they  could  find 
nothing  to  confirni  their  suspicions.  And,  the  Baron  de 
Guldenstubbe,  who  was  president  of  the  Consistory, 


AN   OFFICIAL   INVESTIGATION.  265 

having  visited  the  vaults  privately  in  company  with  two 
members  of  the  family,  and  having  found  the  coffins 
again  in  the  same  disorder,  they  finally,  after  restoring 
the  coffins  to  their  places,  assented  to  an  official  investi- 
gation of  the  affair. 

The  persons  charged  with  this  investigation  were  the 
Baron  de  Guldenstubbe,  as  president,  and  the  bishop 
of  the  province,  as  vice-president,  of  the  Consistory  j 
two  other  members  of  the  same  body;  a  physician, 
named  Luce;  and,  on  the  part  of  the  magistrac}"  of  the 
town,  the  burgomeister,  named  Schmidt,  one  of  the 
syndics,  and  a  secretary. 

They  proceeded,  in  a  body,  to  institute  a  careful  exa- 
mination of  the  vault.  All  the  coffins  there  de- 
posited, with  the  exception  of  three,  were  found  this 
time,  as  before,  displaced.  Of  the  three  coffins  forming 
the  exception,  one  contained  the  remains  of  a  grand- 
mother of  the  then  representative  of  the  family,  who 
had  died  about  five  years  previous;  and  the  two 
others  were  of  young  children.  The  grandmother 
had  been,  in  life,  revered  almost  as  a  saint,  for  her 
great  piety  and  constant  deeds  of  charity  and  benevo- 
lence. 

The  first  suggestion  which  presented  itself,  on  dis- 
covering this  state  of  things,  was  that  robbers  might 
have  broken  in  for  the  sake  of  plunder.  The  vault  of 
an  adjoining  chapel  had  been  forcibly  entered  some 
time  before,  and  the  rich  velvet  and  gold  fringe  which 
adorned  the  coffins  had  been  cut  off  and  stolen.  But 
the  most  careful  examination  failed  to  furnish  any 
grounds  for  such  a  supposition  in  the  present  case. 
The  ornaments  of  the  coffins  were  found  untouched. 
The  commission  caused  several  to  be  opened,  in  order 
to  ascertain  whether  the  rings  or  other  articles  of 
jewelry  which  it  was  customary  to  bury  with  the 
corpses,  and  some  of  which  were  of  considerable  value. 

2.-^ 


266  FACTS   ASCERTAINED    BY    THE 

had  been  taken.  No  indication  of  this  kind,  how- 
ever,  appeared.  One  or  two  of  the  bodies  had  mold' 
ered  almost  to  dust;  but  the  trinkets  known  to  have 
formed  part  of  the  funeral  apparel  still  lay  there,  at  the 
bottom  of  the  coffins. 

It  next  occurred,  as  a  possibility,  to  the  commission, 
that  some  enemies  of  the  Buxhoewden  family,  wealthy, 
perhaps,  and  determined  to  bring  upon  them  annoyance 
and  reproach,  might  have  caused  to  be  excavated  a  sub- 
terranean passage,  its  entrance  at  a  distance  and  con- 
cealed so  as  to  avoid  observation,  and  the  passage  itself 
passing  under  the  foundations  of  the  building  and  open- 
ing into  the  vault.  This  might  furnish  sufficient  expla- 
nation of  the  disarray  of  the  coffins  and  of  the  noises 
heard  from  without. 

To  determine  the  point,  they  procured  workmen,  who 
took  up  the  pavement  of  the  vault  and  carefully  exa- 
mined the  foundations  of  the  chapel;  but  without  any 
result.  The  most  careful  scrutiny  detected  no  secret 
entrance. 

Nothing  remained  but  to  replace  every  thing  in  due 
order,  taking  exact  note  of  the  position  of  the  coffins, 
and  to  adopt  especial  precautions  for  the  detection 
of  any  future  intrusion.  This,  accordingly,  was  done. 
Both  doors,  the  inner  and  the  outer,  after  being  carefully 
locked,  were  doubly  sealed;  first  with  the  official  seal  of 
the  Consistory,  then  with  that  bearing  the  arms  of  the 
city.  Fine  wood-ashes  were  strewed  all  over  the  wooden 
pavement  of  the  vault,  the  stairs  leading  down  to  it  from 
the  chapel,  and  the  floor  of  the  chapel  itself  Finally, 
guards,  selected  from  the  garrison  of  the  town  and  re- 
lieved at  short  intervals,  were  set  for  three  days  and 
nights  to  watch  the  building  and  prevent  any  one  from 
approaching  it. 

At  the  end  of  that  time  the  commission  of  inquiry  re 
turned  to  ascertain  the  result.    Both  doors  were  found 


COMMISSION   OF   INVESTIGATION.  267 

Rccurely  locked  and  the  seals  inviolate.  They  entered 
The  coating  of  ashes  still  presented  a  smooth,  unbroken 
surface.  Neither  in  the  chapel  nor  on  the  stairway 
leading  to  the  vault  was  there  the  trace  of  a  footstep,  of 
man  or  animal.  The  vault  was  suflSciently  lighted  from 
the  chapel  to  make  every  object  distinctly  visible.  They 
descended.  With  beating  hearts,  they  gazed  on  the 
spectacle  before  them.  I^ot  only  was  every  coffin,  with 
the  same  three  exceptions  as  before,  displaced,  and  the 
whole  scattered  in  confusion  over  the  place,  but  many 
of  them,  weighty  as  they  were,  had  been  set  on  end,  so 
that  the  head  of  the  corpse  w^as  downward.  Nor  was 
even  this  all.  The  lid  of  one  coffin  had  been  partially 
forced  open,  and  there  projected  the  shriveled  right  arm 
of  the  corpse  it  contained,  showing  beyond  the  elbow; 
the  lower  arm  being  turned  up  toward  the  ceiling  of  the 
vault! 

The  first  shock  over  which  this  astounding  sight  pro- 
duced, the  commission  proceeded  carefully  to  take  note, 
in  detail,  of  the  condition  of  things  as  they  found  them. 

No  trace  of  human  footstep  was  discovered  in  the 
vault,  any  more  than  on  the  stairs  or  in  the  chapel. 
Nor  was  there  detected  the  slightest  indication  of  any 
felonious  violation.  A  second  search  verified  the  fact 
that  neither  the  external  ornaments  of  the  coffins  nor 
the  articles  of  jewelry  with  which  some  of  the  corpseH 
had  been  decorated  were  abstracted.  Every  thing  was 
disarranged;  nothing  was  taken. 

They  approached,  with  some  trepidation,  the  coffin 
from  one  side  of  w-hich  the  arm  projected;  and,  with  a 
shudder,  they  recogni^ied  it  as  that  in  which  had  been 
placed  the  remains  of  a  member  of  the  Buxhoewden 
family  who  had  committed  Kuicide.  The  matter  had 
been  hushed  up  at  the  time,  through  the  influence  of  the 
family,  and  the  self-destroyor  had  been  buried  with  the 
usual   ceremonies;    but   the   fact   transpired,   and   was 


268  REPORT    OF   THE    COMMISSION. 

known  all  over  the  island,  that  he  was  found  with  his 
throat  cut  and  the  bloody  razor  still  grasped  in  his  right 
hand, — the  same  hand  that  was  now  thrust  forth  to 
human  view  from  under  the  coffin-lid;  a  ghastly  memo- 
rial,  it  seemed,  of  the  rash  deed  which  had  ushered  the 
unhappy  man,  uncalled,  into  another  world ! 

An  official  report  setting  forth  the  state  of  the  vault 
and  of  the  chapel  at  the  time  when  the  commission  set 
seals  upon  the  doors,  verifying  the  fact  that  the  seals 
were  afterward  found  unbroken  and  the  coating  of  ashes 
intact,  and,  finally,  detailing  the  condition  of  things  as 
they  appeared  when  the  commission  revisited  the  chapel 
at  the  end  of  the  three  days,  was  made  out  by  the  Baron 
de  Guldenstubbe,  as  president,  and  signed  by  himself,  by 
the  bishop,  the  burgomeister,  the  physician,  and  the 
other  members  of  the  commission,  as  witnesses.  This 
document,  placed  on  record  with  the  other  proceedings 
of  the  Consistory,  is  to  be  found  among  its  archives,  and 
may  be  examined  by  any  travelers,  respectably  recom- 
mended, on  application  to  its  secretary. 

Never  having  visited  the  island'of  Oesel,  I  had  not  an 
opportunity  of  personally  inspecting  this  paper.  But 
the  facts  above  narrated  w^ere  detailed  to  me  by  Made- 
moiselle de  Guldenstubbe,*  daughter  of  the  baron,  who 
was  residing  in  her  father's  house  at  the  time  and  was 
cognizant  of  each  minute  particular.  They  w^ere  con- 
firmed to  me,  also,  on  the  same  occasion,  by  her  bro- 
ther, the  present  baron. 

This  lady  informed  me  that  the  circumstances  pro- 
duced so  great  an  excitement  throughout  the  whole 
island,  that  there  could  not  have  been  found,  among  its 
fifty  thousand  inhabitants,  a  cottage  inmate  to  whom 
they  w^ere  not  familiar.  She  added  that  the  eff'ect  upon 
the  physician,  M.  Luce,  a  witness  of  these  marvels,  was 


*  At  Paris,  od  the  8th  of  May,  1859. 


THE    FINAL   ISSUE.  269 

such  as  to  produce  a  radical  change  in  his  creed.  An 
able  man,  distinguished  in  his  profession,  familiar,  toe, 
with  the  sciences  of  botany,  mineralogy,  and  geology, 
and  the  author  of  several  works  of  repute  on  these  sub- 
jects, he  had  imbibed  the  materialistic  doctrines  that 
were  prevalent,  especially  among  scientific  men,  through- 
out continental  Europe,  in  his  college  days;  and  these 
he  retained  until  the  hour  when,  in  the  Buxhoewden 
vault,  he  became  convinced  that  there  are  ultramundane 
as  well  as  earthly  powers,  and  that  this  is  not  our  final 
state  of  existence. 

It  remains  to  be  stated  that,  as  the  disturbances 
continued  for  several  months  after  this  investigation, 
the  family,  in  order  to  get  rid  of  the  anno^^ance,  resolved 
to  try  the  effect  of  burying  the  coffins.  This  they  did, 
covering  them  up,  to  a  considerable  depth,  with  earth. 
The  expedient  succeeded.  From  that  time  forth  no 
noises  were  heard  to  proceed  from  the  chapel;  horses 
could  be  fastened  with  impunity  before  it;  and  the  in- 
habitants, recovering  from  their  alarm,  frequented  with 
their  children,  as  usual,  their  favorite  resort.  Nothing 
remained  but  the  memory  of  the  past  occurrences, — to 
fade  away  as  the  present  generation  dies  out,  and  per- 
haps to  be  regarded  by  the  next  as  an  idle  legend  of  the 
incredible. 

To  us,  meanwhile,  it  is  more  than  a  legend.  Fifteen 
j'ears  only  have  elapsed  since  the  date  of  its  occurrence. 
We  have  the  testimony  of  living  witnesses  to  its 
truth. 

The  salient  points  in  the  narrative  are,  first,  the  ex- 
treme terror  of  the  animals,  ending,  in  two  or  three 
cases,  in  death;  and,  secondly,  the  official  character  of 
the  investigation,  and  the  minute  precautions  taken  by 
the  commission  of  inquiry  to  prevent  or  detect  decep- 
uon. 

23* 


270  REMARKS   ON   THE 

The  evidence  resulting  from  the  first  point  is  of  the 
strongest  kind.  In  such  a  case  it  is  impossible  thai 
animals  should  simulate;  equally  impossible  that  they 
should  be  acted  upon  by  imagination.  Their  terror  was 
real,  and  had  a  real  and  adequate  cause.  But  can  the 
cause  be  considered  adequate  if  we  set  down  these  noises 
as  of  an  ordinary  character?  A  common  sound,  much 
louder  and  more  startling  than  we  can  suppose  those 
from  the  chapel  to  have  been, — thunder,  for  instance, 
when  at  no  great  distance, — often  frightens  horses,  but 
never,  so  far  as  I  know  or  have  heard,  to  such  a  degree 
as  to  produce  death. 

To  say  nothing  of  the  well-known  case  recorded  in 
Scripture,*  various  examples  more  or  less  analogous  to 
the  above  will  be  found  throughout  this  volume. 

As  to  the  additional  proof  supplied  by  the  result  of 
the  ofiicial  inquiry,  it  is  difiicult,  under  any  supposition, 
to  explain  it  away.  The  only  hypothesis,  short  of  ultra- 
mundane interference,  that  seems  left  to  us  is  that  which 
occurred  to  the  commission, — namely,  the  possibility  of 
an  underground  passage.  But,  even  if  we  consent  to 
believe  that  these  gentlemen,  after  the  suggestion  oc- 
curred to  them  and  they  had  sent  for  workmen  expressly 
to  resolve  their  doubts,  could  yet  suffer  the  work  to  be 
so  carelessly  done  that  the  secret  entrance  escaped  them 
at  last,  another  difficulty  remains.  The  vault  had  a 
wooden  pavement.  A  portion  of  this,  indeed,  could  be 
easily  raised  by  a  person  desiring  to  effect  an  entrance. 
But,  after  a  coat  of  ashes  had  been  strewn  over  it,  how 
could  any  one,  working  from  beneath,  replace  it  so  as 
to  leave  on  the  surface  of  the  ashes  no  trace  of  the  ope- 
ration ? 

Finally,  if  these  disturbances  are  to  be  ascribed  to 
trickery,  why  should  the  tricksters  have  discontinuea 

*  Numbers  xxh.  23. 


AHREN8BURG  DISTURBANCES.  271 

their  persecution  as  soon  as  the  coffins  were  put  under 
ground  ? 

This  last  difficulty,  however,  exists  equally  in  case  we 
adopt  the  spiritual  hypothesis.  If  to  interference  from 
another  world  these  phenomena  were  due,  why  should 
that  interference  have  ceased  from  the  moment  the 
coffins  were  buried? 

And  for  what  object,  it  may  on  the  same  supposition 
be  further  asked,  such  interference  at  all  ?  It  appears 
to  have  effected  the  conversion  from  materialism  of  the 
attendant  physician, — possibly  of  others;  but  is  that 
sufficient  reply  ? 

By  many  it  will  be  deemed  insufficient.  But,  even  if 
it  be,  our  ignorance  of  Divine  motive  cannot  invalidate 
facts.  We  are  not  in  the  habit  of  denying  such  phe- 
nomena as  an  eruption  of  Vesuvius,  or  a  devastating 
earthquake,  on  account  of  our  inability  to  comprehend 
why  Providence  ordains  them. 

It  remains  at  last,  therefore,  a  simple  question  of  fact. 
Having  stated  the  circumstances  exactly'  as  I  had  them 
from  a  source  as  direct  as  can  well  be,  and  having 
added  the  suggestions  to  which  in  my  mind  they  give 
rise,  it  rests  with  the  reader  to  assign  to  each  the  weight 
which  he  may  think  it  merits. 

All  these  occurrences,  it  will  be  observed,  date  pre- 
vious to  the  spring  of  March,  1848,  when  the  first  dis- 
turbances, the  origin  of  Spiritualism  in  the  United  States, 
took  place  in  the  Fox  family,  and  cannot,  therefore,  by 
possibility  be  imagined  to  have  resulted  from  that  move- 
ment. The  same  may  be  said  of  other  European  nar- 
ratives of  a  somewhat  later  date ;  for  it  was  not  until 
the  commencement  of  the  year  1852  that  the  excitement 
which  gradually  followed  the  Rochester  knockings  at- 
tained such  an  extension  as  to  cause  the  plenomena  of 


272  DISTURBANCES    IN    THE 

rapping  and  table-turning  to  be  known  and  talked  of  m 
Europe. 

From  the  latter  1  select  one,  the  circumstances  con- 
nected with  which  gave  rise,  as  in  a  previous  example, 
to  legal  proceedings;  and  I  restrict  myself  to  the  evi- 
dence given  under  oath  in  the  course  of  trial.  We 
can  scarcely  obtain  stronger  testimony  for  any  past 
occurrence  whatever. 

THE  CIDEVILLE  PARSONAGE. 

Disturbances  in  the  Department  of  the  Seine,  France, 

1850-51. 

In  the  winter  of  1850-51,  certain  disturbances  of  an 
extraordinary  character  occurred  in  the  parsonage  of 
Cideville,  a  village  and  commune  near  the  town  of 
Yerville,  in  the  Department  of  Seine-Inferieure,  about 
thirty-five  miles  east  of  Havre,  and  eighty  miles  north- 
west of  Paris.  This  parsonage  was  occupied  by  M. 
Tinel,  parish  priest  and  curate  of  Cideville. 

The  rise  and  continuance  of  these  disturbances  ap- 
peared to  depend  on  the  presence  of  two  children,  then 
of  the  age  of  twelve  and  fourteen  respectively,  sons  of 
respectable  parents,  themselves  of  amiable  dispositions 
and  good  character,  who  had  been  intrusted  to  the  care 
of  the  curate  to  be  educated  for  the  priesthood,  and 
who  resided  in  the  parsonage. 

The  disturbances  commenced,  in  the  presence  of  these 
children,  on  the  26th  of  November,  1850,  and  continued 
daily,  or  almost  daily, — usually  in  the  room  or  rooms  in 
which  the  children  were, — for  upward  of  two  months  and 
a  half,  namely,  until  the  15th  of  February,  1851,  the 
day  on  which  the  children,  by  order  of  the  Archbishop 
of  Paris,  were  removed  from  the  parsonage.  From  that 
day  all  noises  and  other  disturbances  ceased.* 

*  The  children,  when  taken  from  M.  Tinel,  were  intrusted  to  the  caro 


NORTH    OF    FRANCE.  278 

It  SO  happened,  from  certain  circamstances  preceding 
and  attendant  upon  these  strange  phenomena, — chiefly, 
however,  it  would  seem,  in  consequence  of  his  own  idle 
boasts  of  secret  powers  and  knowledge  of  the  black 
arts, — that  a  certain  shepherd  residing  in  the  neighbor- 
ing commune  of  Anzouville-rEsvenal,  named  Felix 
Thorel,  gradually  came  to  be  suspected,  by  the  moro 
credulous,  of  practicing  sorcery  against  the  children, 
and  thus  causing  the  disturbances  at  the  parsonage 
which  had  alarmed  and  excited  the  neighborhood.  It 
appears  that  the  curate,  Tinel,  shared  to  some  extent 
this  popular  fancy,  and  expressed  the  opinion  that  the 
shepherd  was  a  sorcerer  and  the  author  of  the  annoy- 
ances in  question. 

Thereupon  Thorel,  having  lost  his  place  as  shepherd 
in  consequence  of  such  suspicions,  brought  suit  for  defa- 
mation of  character  against  the  curate,  laying  the 
damages  at  twelve  hundred  francs.  The  trial  was  com- 
menced before  the  justice  of  the  peace  of  Yerville  on 
the  7th  of  January,  1851,  witnesses  heard  (to  the  number 
of  eighteen  for  the  prosecution  and  sixteen  for  the  de- 
fense) on  the  28th  of  January  and  succeeding  days,  and 
final  judgment  rendered  on  the  4th  of  February  following. 

In  that  document,  after  premising  that,  "whatever 
might  be  the  cause  of  the  extraordinary  facts  which 
occurred  at  the  parsonage  of  Cideville,  it  is  clear,  from 
the  sum  total  of  the  testimony  adduced,  that  the  cause 
of  these  facts  still  remains  unknown;"  after  premising 
further  "that  although,  on  the  one  part,  the  defendant, 
(the  curate,)  according  to  several  witnesses,  did  declare 
that  the  prosecutor  (the  shepherd)  had  boasted  of  pro- 
ducing the  disturbances  at  the  parsonage  of  Cideville, 

of  M.  Fauvel,  parish  priest  of  St.   Guen  du  Breuil,  who  testifies   to  their 
good   character  and  conduct     See  his  letter   in    De  Mirville's  pamphlet, 
'*  Fragment  d'wi  Onvrage  inidit."     It  does  not  appear  that  the  disturbancet 
followed  them  to  their  new  home. 
S 


274  LEGAL  DECISION. 

and  did  express  his  (the  defendant's)  own  suspicions 
that  he  (the  prosecutor)  was  the  author  of  them,  yet, 
on  the  other  hand,  it  is  proved  by  numerous  witnesses 
that  the  said  prosecutor  had  said  and  done  whatever 
lay  in  his  power  to  persuade  the  public  that  he  actually 
had  a  hand  in  their  perpetration,  and  particularly  by 
lis  vaunts  to  the  witnesses  Cheval,  Yareu,  Lettellier, 
Foulongue,  Le  Hernault,  and  others ;"  and,  further,  after 
deciding  that,  m  consequence,  "  the  prosecutor  cannot 
maintain  a  claim  for  damages  for  alleged  defamation  of 
which  he  was  himself  the  first  author,"  the  magistrate 
gave  judgment  for  the  defendant,  (the  curate,)  and  con- 
demned the  prosecutor  (the  shepherd)  to  pay  the  ex- 
penses of  the  suit.    ♦ 

Within  ten  days  after  the  rendition  of  this  judgment, 
a  gentleman  who  had  visited  the  parsonage  during  thesd 
disturbances,  had  there  witnessed  many  of  the  more 
extraordinary  phenomena,  and  was  himself  one  of  the 
witnesses  at  the  trial, — the  Marquis  de  Mirville,  well 
known  to  the  literary  world  of  Paris  as  the  author  of  a 
recent  work  on  Pneumatology, — collected  from  the  legal 
record  all  the  documents  connected  with  the  trial,  in- 
.^luding  the  proces-verbal  of  the  testimony;  this  last  being, 
according  to  the  French  forms  of  justice,  taken  down  at 
the  time  of  the  deposition,  then  read  over  to  each  wit- 
ness and  its  accuracy  attested  by  him. 

It  is  from  these  official  documents,  thus  collected  at 
the  time  as  appendix  to  a  pamphlet  on  the  subject,*  that 
I  translate  the  following  details  of  the  disturbances  in 
question,  embodying  those  phenomena  upon  which  the 
main  body  of  the  witnesses  agreed,  and  omitting  such 
portions  of  the  testimony  as  are  immaterial  or  uncor- 


♦  "  Fragment  d'un  Ouvrage  inidit"  published  by  Vrayet  de  Surcy,  Paris, 
1852.  (The  unpublished  work  here  referred  to  is  De  MirA'illo's  pell  known 
rolume  on  Pneumatology.) 


COMMENCEMENT   OP  THB   DISTURBANCES.  275 

foborated  j  Mso  such  as  specially  refer  to  the  proofs  for 
and  against  the  charge  of  defamation,  and  to  the  alleged 
agency  of  the  shepherd  Thorel. 

On  Tuesday,  the  26th  of  November,  1850,  as  the 
two  children  were  at  work  in  one  of  the  rooms  in  the 
upper  story  of  the  parsonage,  about  five  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon,  they  heard  knockings,  resembling  light  blows 
of  a  hammer,  on  the  wainscoting  of  the  apartment. 
These  knockings  were  continued  daily  throughout  the 
week,  at  the  same  hour  of  the  afternoon. 

On  the  next  Sunday,  the  Ist  of  December,  the  blowS 
Commenced  at  mid-day ;  and  it  was  on  that  day  that  the 
Curate  first  thought  of  addressing  them.  He  said, 
"  Strike  louder !"  Thereupon  the  blows  were  repeated 
more  loudly.     They  continued  thus  all  that  day. 

On  Monday,  December  2,  the  elder  of  the  two  boys 
said  to  the  knockings,  "  Beat  time  to  the  tune  of  Mavtre 
Corbeau;  "  and  they  immediately  obeyed. 

The  next  day,  Tuesday,  December  3,  the  boy  having 
related  the  above  circumstances  to  M.  Tinel,  he,  (Tinel,) 
being  much  astonished,  resolved  to  try,  and  said, 
"Play  us  Maitre  Corbeau;"  and  the  knockings  obeyed. 
The  afternoon  of  that  day,  the  knockings  became  so 
loud  and  violent  that  a  table  in  the  apartment  moved 
somewhat,  and  the  noise  was  so  great  that  one  could 
hardly  stay  in  the  room.  Later  in  the  same  afternoon, 
the  table  moved  from  its  place  three  times.  The  curate's 
sister,  after  assuring  herself  that  the  children  had  not 
moved  it,  replaced  it;  but  twice  it  followed  her  back 
again.  The  noises  continued,  with  violence,  all  that 
week.* 

On  Monday,  December  9,  there  being  present  Auguste 
Huet,  a  neighboring  proprietor,  the  curate  of  Limesy, 
and  another  gentleman,  the  younger  child  being  also 

*  Testimonj  of  Gustave  Lemonier  and  of  Clement  BaneL 


27b  DEPOSITIONS   REGARDING 

prcbeut,  but  with  his  arms  folded,  Huet  tapped  with 
his  finger  on  the  edge  of  the  table,  and  said,  "Strike  as 
many  blows  as  there  are  letters  in  my  name."  Four 
blows  were  immediately  struck,  at  the  very  spot,  under 
his  finger.  He  was  convinced  it  could  not  be  done  by 
the  child,  nor  by  any  one  in  the  house.  Then  he  asked 
it  to  beat  time  to  the  air  of  "  Au  Clair  de  la  Lune}"  and 
it  did  80.* 

The  Mayor  of  Cideville  deposes  to  the  fact  that,  being 
in  the  parsonage,  he  saw  the  tongs  leap  from  the  fire- 
place into  the  room.  Then  the  shovel  did  the  same 
thing.  The  Mayor  said  to  one  of  the  children,  "  How, 
Gustave !  what  is  that  ?"  The  child  replied,  "  I  did  not 
vouch  it."  The  tongs  and  shovel  were  then  replaced, 
and  a  second  time  they  leaped  forward  into  the  room. 
This  time,  as  the  Mayor  testified,  he  had  his  eyes  fixed 
upon  them,  so  as  to  detect  the  trick  in  case  any  one 
pushed  them ;  but  nothing  was  to  be  seen.f 

M.  Leroux,  curate  of  Saussay,  deposes  that,  being  at 
the  parsonage,  he  witnessed  things  that  were  inexplica- 
ble to  him.  He  saw  a  hammer  fly,  impelled  by  an  in- 
visible force,  from  the  spot  where  it  lay,  and  fall  on  the 
floor  of  the  room  without  more  noise  than  if  a  hand  had 
lightly  placed  it  there.  He  also  saw  a  piece  of  bread 
that  was  lying  on  the  table  move  of  itself  and  fall  below 
the  table.  He  was  so  placed  that  it  was  impossible  that 
any  one  could  have  thrown  these  things  without  his 
seeing  him  do  it.  He  also  heard  the  extraordinary 
noises,  and  took  every  possible  precaution,  even  to 
placing  himself  under  the  table,  to  assure  himself  that 
the  children  did  not  produce  them.  So  sure  was  he  of 
this,  that,  to  use  his  own  expression,  he  would  ''sign  it 
with  his  blood."     Q^  Je  le  signerais  de  mon  sang")    He 

♦  Testimony  of  Auguste  Huet. 

f  Testimony  of  Adolphe  Cheval,  Mayor  of  Cidevillo. 


THE   CIDEVILLE   DISTURBANCES.  277 

remarked  that  M.  Tinel  appeared  exasperated  by  theso 
noises  and  their  continued  repetition ;  and  he  addea 
that,  having  slept  several  nights  in  the  same  room 
as  M.  Tinel,  the  latter  awoke  in  a  fright  at  the  disturb 
ances.* 

The  deposition  of  the  Marquis  de  Mirville,  proprietor 
at  Gomerville,  is  one  of  the  most  circumstantial.  He 
testifies  to  the  following  effect.  Having  heard  much  of 
the  disturbances  at  Cideville,  he  suddenly  resolved  one 
day  to  go  there.  The  distance  from  his  residence  is 
fourteen  leagues.  He  arrived  at  the  parsonage  at  night- 
fall, unexpected  by  its  inmates,  and  passed  the  evening 
there,  never  losing  sight  of  the  curate  nor  leaving  him 
a  moment  alone  with  the  children.  The  curate  knew 
the  marquis's  name,  but  only  from  a  letter  of  introduc- 
tion which  the  latter  had  brought. 

M.  de  Mirville  passed  the  night  at  the  parsonage,  the 
curate  having  given  up  to  him  his  bed,  in  the  same 
/•oom  in  which  the  children  slept.  No  disturbance 
during  the  night.  The  next  morning  one  of  the  chil- 
dren awoke  him,  and  said,  "Do  you  hear,  sir,  how  it 
scratches  V 

''What,  my  child?" 

'*  The  spirit." 

And  the  marquis  heard,  in  effect,  a  strong  scratching 
on  the  mattress  of  the  children's  bed.  He  notified  the 
mysterious  agent,  however,  that  he  should  not  think  the 
noises  worth  listening  to  unless  the  theater  of  opera- 
tions was  removed  from  where  the  children  were.  Then 
the  knockings  were  heard  above  the  bed.  "  Too  near 
yet !"  said  M.  de  Mirville.  "  Go  and  knock  at  that 
corner,"  (pointing  to  a  distant  corner  of  the  room.)  In- 
stantly the  knocking  was  heard  there.  "  Ah !"  said  the 
marquis,  "  now  we  can  converse  :  strike  a  single  blow 
if  you  agree."     A  loud  blow  for  answer. 

*  Testimony  of  Martin  Tranquille  Leroux,  eurate  of  Saussay. 
24 


278  DEPOSITIONS   REGARDING 

So,  aflei*  breakfast,  the  curate  having  gone  t6  tatim 
khd  the  children  being  in  the  room  at  their  studies,  hd 
carried  out  his  intention,  thus  : — 

"  How  many  letters  are  there  in  my  name  ?  Answer 
by  the  number  of  strokes." 

Eight  strokes  were  given. 

*<How  many  in  my  given  name?" 

Five  strokes.     (Jules.) 

"  How  many  in  my  pre-name?"  (pre-nom;  a  name,  he 
remarked,  by  which  he  was  never  called,  and  which  was 
only  known  from  his  baptismal  record.) 

Seven  strokes.     (Charles.) 

"  How  many  in  my  eldest  daughter's  name  ?" 

Five  strokes.     (Aline.) 

"  How  many  in  my  younger  daughter's  name  ?" 

Nine  strokes.  This  time  the  first  error,  the  name 
being  Blanche ;  but  the  blows  immediately  began  again 
and  struck  seven,  thus  correcting  the  original  mistake. 

"  How  many  letters  in  the  name  of  my  commune  ? 
but  take  care  and  don't  make  a  common  mistake  in 
spelling  it." 

A  pause.  Then  ten  strokes, — the  correct  number  of 
Gomerville;  often  erroneously  spelled  Gommerville. 

At  the  request  of  this  witness,  the  knockings  beat  time 
to  several  airs.  One,  the  waltz  from  "  Guillaume  Tell" 
which  it  could  not  beat,  was  hummed  by  M.  de  Mirville. 
After  a  pause,  the  knockings  followed  the  measure  note 
by  note ;  and  it  was  several  times  repeated  in  the  course 
of  the  day. 

The  witness,  being  asked  if  he  thought  the  curate 
could  be  himself  the  author  of  these  disturbances,  re- 
plied, "I  should  be  greatly  astonished  if  any  person  in 
this  neighborhood  could  entertain  such  an  opinion."* 

Madame  de  Saint-Yictor,  residing  in  a  neighboring 
chateau,  had  frequently  visited  the  parsonage, — at  first, 

*  Testimony  of  Charles  Jules  de  Mirville. 


THE   CIDEVILLE   DISTURBANCES.  279 

a6  she  deposed,  completely  incredulous,  and  convincdd 
that  she  could  discover  the  cause  of  the  disturbances. 
On  the  8th  of  December,  after  vespers,  being  in  the 
parsonage,  and  standing  apart  from  any  one,  she  felt 
her  mantle  seized  by  an  invisible  force,  so  as  to  give  her 
a  strong  pull  or  shock,  (une  forte  secousse.)  Among 
various  other  phenomena,  just  one  week  before  she  gave 
her  evidence,  (January  22,)  while  she  was  alone  with  the 
children,  she  saw  two  desks,  at  which  they  were  then 
engaged  in  writing,  upset  on  the  floor,  and  the  table 
upset  on  the  top  of  them.  On  the  28th  of  January,  she 
saw  a  candlestick  take  flight  from  the  kitchen  chimney- 
piece  and  strike  her  femme-de-chambre  on  the  back. 
She  also,  in  company  with  her  son,  heard  the  knockings 
beat  the  measure  of  various  airs.  When  it  beat  ^^  Maitre 
Corheau"  she  said,  *'Is  that  all  you  know?"  Where- 
upon it  immediately  beat  the  measure  of  ^^  Claire  de  Lune^* 
and  "  J'<2i  du  hon  Tobac."  During  the  beating  of  several 
of  these  airs,  being  alone  with  the  children,  she  observed 
them  narrowly, — their  feet,  their  hands,  and  all  their 
movements.  It  was  impossible  thkt  they  should  have 
done  it.* 

Another  important  witness,  M.  Robert  de  Saint- Victor, 
son  of  the  preceding  witness,  deposed  as  follows.  On 
the  invitation  of  the  curate,  several  days  after  the  dis- 
turbances began,  he  visited  the  parsonage,  about  half- 
past  three  in  the  afternoon.  Going  up-stairs,  after  a 
time  he  heard  slight  knockings  on  the  wainscot.  They 
resembled,  yet  were  not  exactly  like,  sounds  produced 
by  an  iron  point  striking  on  hard  wood.  The  wit- 
ness arrived  quite  incredulous,  and  satisfied  that  he 
rould  discover  the  cause  of  these  knockings.  I^he  first 
day  they  strongly  excited  his  attention,  but  did  not 
eecuro  his  conviction.     The   next   day,  at  ten  o'clock, 

*  Deposition  of  Marie-Fran^oise  Adolphine  Desohamps  de  Bois-Hebert, 
wife  of  M.  de  Saint- Victor. 


280  DEPOSITIONS   REGARDING 

he  returned.  Several  popular  songs  were  then,  at  his 
request;  beaten  in  time.  The  same  day,  about  three 
o'clock,  he  heard  blows  so  heavy  that  he  was  sure  a 
mallet  striking  on  the  floor  would  not  have  produced 
the  like.  Toward  evening  these  blows  were  continued 
almost  without  interruption.  At  that  time,  M.  Cheval, 
the  Mayor  of  Cideville,  and  the  witness,  went  over  the 
house  together.  They  saw,  several  times,  the  table  at 
which  the  children  were  sitting  move  from  its  place. 
To  assure  themselves  that  this  could  not  possibly  be  the 
children's  doing,  they  placed  both  the  children  in  the 
middle  of  the  room ;  then  M.  Cheval  and  the  witness  sat 
down  to  the  table,  and  felt  it  move  away  from  the  wall 
several  times.  They  tried  by  main  force  to  prevent  it 
from  moving;  but  their  united  eiforts  were  unavailing. 
In  spite  of  them,  it  moved  from  ten  to  twelve  centimetres^ 
(about  four  inches,)  and  that  with  a  uniform  motion, 
without  any  jerk.  The  witness's  mother,  who  was 
present,  had  previously  testified  to  the  same  fact.* 
While  the  curate  was  gone  to  the  church,  the  witness 
remained  alone  with  the  children;  and  presently  there 
arose  such  a  clatter  in  the  room  that  one  could  hardly 
endure  it.  Every  piece  of  furniture  there  was  set 
in  vibration.  And  the  witness  confessed  that  he  ex- 
pected every  moment  that  the  floor  of  the  apartment 
would  sink  beneath  his  feet.  He  felt  convinced  that 
if  every  person  in  the  house  had  set  to  work,  to- 
gether, to  pound  with  mallets  on  the  floor,  they  could 
not  have  produced  such  a  racket.  The  noise  appeared 
especially  to  attach  itself  to  the  younger  of  the  two 
children,  the  knockings  being  usually  on  that  part  of  the 
wainscot  nearest  to  where  he  happened  to  stand  or  sit. 
The  child  appeared  in  constant  terror. 

The  witness  finally  became  thoroughly  convinced  that 

*  See  testimony  of  Madame  de  Saint- Victor. 


THE    CIDEVILLK    DISTURBANCES.  281 

the  occult  force,  whatever  its  precise  character,  was  in- 
telligent. "When  he  returned,  several  days  later,  to  the 
parsonage,  the  phenomena  continued  with  still  increas- 
ing violence.  One  evening,  desiring  to  enter  the  room 
where  the  children  usually  sat,  the  door  resisted  his 
efforts  to  open  it, — a  resistance  which,  the  witness 
averred,  he  could  not  attribute  to  a  natural  cause ;  for 
when  he  succeeded  in  pushing  it  open  and  entering  the 
room  there  was  no  one  there.  Another  day,  it  occurred 
to  him  to  ask  for  an  air  but  little  known, — the  Stabat 
Mater,  of  Rossini;  and  it  was  given  with  extraordinary 
accuracy. 

Returning,  some  days  later,  on  the  renewed  invita- 
tion of  the  curate,  this  witness  went  up-stairs;  and  at 
the  moment  when  he  came  opposite  the  door  of  the 
upper  room,  a  desk  that  stood  on  the  table  at  which 
the  children  usually  studied  (but  they  were  not  there 
at  the  time)  started  from  its  place,  and  came  toward 
the  witness  with  a  swift  motion,  and  following  a  line 
parallel  with  the  floor,  until  it  was  about  thirty  centi- 
metres (one  foot)  from  his  person,  when  it  fell  vertically 
to  the  floor.  The  place  where  it  fell  was  distant  about 
two  metres  (between  six  and  seven  feet)  from  the  table.* 

The  witness  Bouffay,  vicar  of  St.  Maclou,  stated  that 
he  had  been  several  times  at  the  parsonage.  The  first 
time  he  heard  continued  noises  in  the  apartments  occu- 
pied by  the  children.  These  noises  were  intelligent 
and  obedient.  On  one  occasion,  the  witness  sleeping  in 
the  children's  room,  the  uproar  was  so  violent  that  he 
thought  the  floor  would  open  beneath  him.  He  heard 
the  noises  equally  in  the  presence  and  the  absence  of 
the  curate;  and  he  took  especial  notice  that  the  chil- 
dren were  motionless  when  the  disturbances  occurred, 
and  evidently  could  not  produce  them.     On  one  occa- 


*  TeBtimony  of  M.  Raoul  Robert  de  Saint- Victor. 
24* 


2S2  DEPOSITIONS  REaARDINd 

Bion,  the  witness,  with  the  curate  and  the  children, 
slept  at  a  neighbor's  house  to  escape  the  continued 
noises.* 

The  deposition  of  Dufour,  land-agent  at  Yerville  was 
to  the  effect  that,  on  the  7th  of  December,  being  at 
dinner  in  the  parsonage,  knockings  were  heard  above 
Mademoiselle  Tinel  said,  "Do  you  hear?  These  are 
the  noises  that  occur."  The  witness  went  up-stairs, 
and  found  the  children  sitting  each  at  one  end  of  the 
table,  but  distant  from  it  fifty  or  sixty  centimetres, 
(about  two  feet.)  He  heard  strokes  in  the  wall,  which 
he  is  sure  the  children  did  not  make.  Then  the  table 
advanced  into  the  room  without  any  one  touching  it. 
The  witness  put  it  back  in  its  place.  It  moved  forward 
a  second  time  about  three  metres  (about  ten  feet)  into 
the  room,  the  children  not  touching  it.  As  the  witness 
was  going  down  the  stairs,  he  stopped  on  the  first  step 
to  look  round  at  the  table,  and  saw  it  come  forward  to 
the  edge  of  the  stairway,  impelled  by  an  invisible  force. 
The  witness  remarked  that  the  table  had  no  castors. 
This  occurred  while  the  curate  was  absent  from  the 
parsonage.f 

The  witness  Gobert,  vicar  of  St.  Maclou,  testified  that 
when  the  curate  of  Cideville  and  the  two  children  came 
to  his  (Gobert's)  house,  he  heard,  on  the  ceiling  and 
walls  of  his  apartment,  noises  similar  to  those  which 
he  (Gobert)  had  before  heard  at  the  Cideville  parsonage.J 

Such  are  the  main  facts  to  which  witnesses  in  this 
strange  suit  testified.  I  have  omitted  those  which 
rested  only  on  the  testimony  of  the  children.  Tho  in- 
dustry of  M.  de  Mirville  has  collected  and  embodied  in 
the  pamphlet  referred  to   additional   evidence,  in  the 


*  Testimony  of  Athanase  Bouffay,  vicar  of  St.  Maclou,  of  Rouen. 

f  Testimony  of  Nicolas- Boniface  Dufour,  land-agent  at  Yeryille. 

X  Testimony  of  Adalbert  Honor!  Gobert,  vicar  of  St.  Maclou,  of  Rou«ii 


THE    OIDEVILLE   DISTURBANCES.  283 

shape  of  several  letters  written  by  respectable  gentle- 
men who  visited  the  parsonage  during  the  disturbances. 
One  is  from  the  assistant  judge  of  a  neighboring  tribu- 
nal, M.  Eousselin.  He  found  the  curate  profoundly 
afflicted  by  his  painful  position,  and  obtained  from  him 
every  opportunity  of  cross-questioning,  separately,  the 
children,  M.  Tinel's  sister,  and  his  servant.  Their  entire 
demeanor  bore  the  impress  of  truthfulness.  Their 
testimony  was  clear,  direct,  and  uniformly  consistent. 
He  found  the  window-panes  broken,  and  boards  set  op 
against  them.  Another  gentlemen  states  that,  on  his 
arrival  at  the  parsonage,  he  was  struck  with  the  sad  and 
unhappy  look  of  the  curate,  who,  he  adds,  impressed 
him,  from  his  appearance,  as  a  most  worthy  man. 

All  these  letters  fully  corroborate  the  preceding 
testimony. 

It  would  be  difficult  to  find  a  case  more  explicit  or 
better  authenticated  than  the  foregoing.  Yet  it  is  cer- 
tain that  the  phenomena  it  discloses,  closely  as  these 
resemble  what  has  been  occurring  for  ten  years  past 
all  over  the  United  States,  are  not  traceable,  directly  or 
indirectly,  through  the  influence  of  imitation,  epidemic 
excitement,  or  otherwise,  to  the  Spiritual  movement 
among  us.  The  history  of  the  Rochester  knockings, 
then  but  commencing  here,  had  never  reached  the  hum- 
ble parsonage  of  Cideville,  and  afforded  no  explanation 
to  its  alarmed  inmates  of  the  annoyances  which  broke 
their  quiet  and  excited  their  fears. 

I  might  go  on,  indefinitely,  extending  the  number  of 
similar  narratives,  but  a  repetition  would  prove  nothing 
moi«  than  is  established  by  the  specimens  already  given. 
I  therefore  here  close  my  list  of  disturbances  occurring 
in  Europe,  and  proceed  to  furnish,  in  conclusion,  from 
the  most  authentic  sources,  that  example,  already  re- 
ferred  to,  occurring   in    our  own    country,  which   has 


284  PARTICULARS   REGARDING 

become  known,  in  Europe  as  well  as  America,  under 
the  name  of  the  "Eochester  Knockings." 

THE   HYDESVILLE   DWELLmG-HOUSE. 

Disturbances  in  Western  New  York, 

1848. 

There  stands,  not  far  from  the  town  of  I^ewark^  in 
the  county  of  Wayne  and  State  of  New  York,  a  wooden 
dwelling, — one  of  a  cluster  of  small  houses  like  itself, 
scarcely  meriting  the  title  of  a  village,  but  known  under 
the  name  of  Hydesville ;  being  so  called  after  Dr.  Hyde, 
an  old  settler,  whose  son  is  the  proprietor  of  the  house 
in  question.  It  is  a  story  and  a  half  high,  fronting 
south;  the  lower  floor  consisting,  in  1848,  of  two  mode- 
rate-sized rooms,  opening  into  each  other;  east  of  these 
a  bedroom,  opening  into  the  sitting-room,  and  a  buttery, 
opening  into  the  same  room ;  together  with  a  stairwaj^, 
(between  the  bedroom  and  buttery,)  leading  from  the 
sitting-room  up  to  the  half-story  above,  and  from  the 
butter}^  down  to  the  cellar. 

This  humble  dwelling  had  been  selected  as  a  tem- 
porary residence,  during  the  erection  of  another  house 
in  the  country,  by  Mr.  John  D   Fox. 

The  Fox  family  were  reputpble  farmers,  members  of 
the  Methodist  Church  in  good  standin/r,  and  much  re- 
spected by  their  neighbors  as  honest,  upright  people. 
Mr.  Fox's  ancestors  were  Germans,  the  name  being 
originally  Voss;  but  both  he  and  Mrs.  Fox  were  native 
born.  In  Mrs.  Fox's  family,  French  by  origin  and 
Eutan  by  name,  several  individuals  had  evinced  the 
power  of  second-sight, — her  maternal  grandmother, 
whose  maiden  name  was  Margaret  Ackerman,  and  who 
resided  at  Long  Island,  among  the  number.  She  had, 
frequently,  perceptions  of  funerals  before  they  occurred, 
and  was  wont  to  follow  these  phantom  procession^  to 
the  grave  as  if  they  were  material. 


THE    FOX    FAMILY.  285 

Mrs  Fox's  sister  also,  Mrs.  Elizabeth  Higgins,  had 
Rimilar  power  On  one  occasion,  in  the  year  1823,  the 
two  sisters,  then  residing  in  New  York,  proposed  to  go 
to  Sodus  by  canal.  But  Elizabeth  said,  one  morning, 
*'"We  shall  not  make  this  trip  by  water.'*  *'  Why  so?" 
her  sister  asked.  "  Because  I  dreamed  last  night  that 
we  traveled  by  land,  and  there  was  a  strange  lady  with 
us.  In  my  dream,  too,  I  thought  we  came  to  Mott's 
tavern,  in  the  Beech  woods,  and  that  they  could  not 
admit  us,  because  Mrs.  Mott  lay  dying  in  the  house.  I 
know  it  will  all  come  time."  "  Very  unlikely  indeed," 
replied  her  sister;  "for  last  year,  when  we  passed 
there,  Mr.  Mott's  wife  lay  dead  in  the  house."  "  You 
will  see.  He  must  have  married  again ;  and  he  will  lose 
his  second  wife."  Every  particular  came  to  pass  as 
Mrs.  Higgins  had  predicted.  Mrs.  Johnson,  a  stranger, 
whom  at  the  time  of  the  dream  they  had  not  seen,  did 
go  with  them,  they  made  the  journey  by  land,  and 
were  refused  admittance  into  Mott's  tavern,  for  the  very 
cause  assigned  in  Mrs.  Higgins's  dream. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Fox  had  six  children,  of  whom  the  two 
youngest  were  staying  with  them  when,  on  the  11th 
of  December,  1847,  they  removed  into  the  house  I  have 
described.  The  children  were  both  girls :  Margaret, 
then  twelve  years  old;  and  Kate,  nine. 

Soon  after  they  had  taken  up  their  residence  in  the 
dwelling  referred  to,  they  began  to  think  it  was  a  very 
noisy  house ;  but  this  was  attributed  to  rats  and  mice. 
During  the  next  month,  however,  (January,  1848,)  the 
noise  began  to  assume  the  character  of  slight  knock- 
ings  heard  at  night  in  the  bedroom;  sometimes  appear- 
ing to  sound  from  the  cellar  beneath.  At  first  Mrs. 
Fox  sought  to  persuade  herself  this  might  be  but  the 
hammering  of  a  shoemaker,  in  a  house  hard  by,  sitting 
up  late  at  work.  But  further  observation  showed  that 
the  sounds,  whencesoever  proceeding,  originated  in  the 


280  COMMENCEMENT    OF   THE 

house,  For  not  only  did  the  knockings  gradually  bo- 
come  more  distinct,  and  not  only  were  they  heard  first  in 
one  part  of  the  house,  then  in  another,  but  the  family 
finally  remarked  that  these  raps,  even  when  not  very 
loud,  often  caused  a  motion,  tremulous  rather  than  a 
sudden  jar,  of  the  bedsteads  and  chairs, — sometimes  of 
the  floor;  a  motion  which  was  quite  perceptible  to  the 
touch  when  a  hand  was  laid  on  the  chairs,  which  was 
sometimes  sensibly  felt  at  night  in  the  slightly  oscil- 
lating motion  of  the  bed,  and  which  was  occasionally 
perceived  as  a  sort  of  vibration  even  when  standing  on 
the  floor. 

After  a  time,  also,  the  noises  varied  in  their  character, 
sounding  occasionally  like  distinct  footfalls  in  the  difler- 
ent  rooms. 

Nor  were  the  disturbances,  after  a  month  or  two  had 
passed,  confined  to  sounds.  Once  something  heavy, 
as  if  a  dog,  seemed  to  lie  on  the  feet  of  the  children ; 
but  it  was  gone  before  the  mother  could  come  to  their 
aid.  Another  time  (this  was  late  in  March)  Kate  felt 
as  if  a  cold  hand  on  her  face.  Occasionally,  too,  the 
bed-clothes  were  pulled  during  the  night.  Finally  chairs 
were  moved  from  their  places.  So,  on  one  occasion, 
was  the  dining-table. 

The  disturbances,  which  had  been  limited  to  occasional 
knockings  throughout  February  and  the  early  part  of 
March,  gradually  increased,  toward  the  close  of  the  latter 
month,  in  loudness  and  frequency,  so  seriously  as  to  break 
the  rest  of  the  family.  Mr.  Fox  and  his  wife  got  up  night 
after  night,  lit  a  candle,  and  thoroughly  searched  every  • 
nook  and  corner  of  the  house  ]  but  without  any  result.  They 
discovered  nothing.  When  the  raps  came  on  a  door, 
Mr.  Fox  would  stand,  ready  to  open,  the  moment  they 
were  repeated.  But  this  expedient,  too,  proved  unavail- 
ing. Though  he  opened  the  door  on  the  instant,  there 
waa  CO  one  to  be  seen.     Nor  did  be  or  Mrs.  Yo^  o/er 


HYDLSVILLB  DISTURBANCES.  287 

obtain  the  slightest  clew  to  the  cause  of  these  disturb- 
ances. 

The  only  circumstance  which  seemed  to  suggest  the 
possibility  of  trickery  or  of  mistake  was,  that  these 
various  unexplained  occurrences  never  happened  in 
daylight. 

And  thus,  notwithstanding  the  strangeness  of  the 
thing,  when  morning  came  they  began  to  think  it  must 
have  been  but  the  fancy  of  the  night.  Not  being 
given  to  superstition,  they  clung,  throughout  several 
weeks  of  annoyance,  to  the  idea  that  some  natural  ex- 
planation of  these  seeming  accidents  would  at  last 
appear.  Nor  did  they  abandon  this  hope  till  the  night 
of  Friday,  the  Slst  of  March,  1848. 

The  day  had  been  cold  and  stormy,  with  snow  on  the 
ground.  In  the  course  of  the  afternoon,  a  son,  David, 
came  to  visit  them  from  his  farm,  about  three  miles  dis- 
tant. His  mother  then  first  recounted  to  him  the  par- 
ticulars of  the  annoyances  they  had  endured;  for  till 
now  they  had  been  little  disposed  to  communicate  these 
to  any  one.  He  heard  her  with  a  smile.  "Well, 
mother,"  he  said,  "  I  advise  you  not  to  say  a  word  to 
the  neighbors  about  it.  When  you  find  it  out,  it  will  be 
one  of  the  simplest  things  in  the  world."  And  in  that 
belief  he  returned  home. 

Wearied  out  by  a  succession  of  sleepless  nights  and 
of  fruitless  attempts  to  penetrate  the  mystery,  the  Fox 
family  retired  on  that  Friday  evening  very  early  to 
rest,  hoping  for  a  respite  from  the  disturbances  that 
harassed  them.    But  they  were  doomed  to  disappointmen  t. 

The  parents  had  had  the  children's  beds  removed  into 
their  bedroom,  and  strictly  enjoined  them  not  to  talk 
of  noises  even  if  they  heard  them.  But  scarcel}'  had 
the  mother  seen  them  safely  in  bed,  and  was  retiring  to 
rest  herself,  when  the  children  cried  out,  "  Here  they 
are  again  I"    The  mother  chid  them>  and  lay  dowr 


288  EVENTS    OF    THE 

Thereupon  the  noises  became  louder  and  more  startling 
The  children  sat  up  in  bed.  Mrs.  Fox  called  in  her  hus- 
band. The  night  being  windy,  it  suggested  itself  to 
him  that  it  might  be  the  rattling  of  the  sashes.  Ho 
tried  several,  shaking  them  to  see  if  they  were  loose. 
Kate,  the  youngest  girl,  happened  to  remark  tliat  as 
often  as  her  father  shook  a  window-sash  the  noises 
seemed  to  reply.  Being  a  lively  child,  and  in  a  measure 
accustomed  to  what  was  going  on,  she  turned  to  w^here 
the  noise  was,  snapped  her  fingers,  and  called  out,  "Here, 
old  Splitfoot,  do  as  I  do !"   The  knocking  instantly  responded. 

That  was  the  very  commencement.  Who  can  tell 
where  the  end  will  be  ? 

I  do  not  mean  that  it  was  Kate  Fox  who  thus,  half 
in  childish  jest,  first  discovered  that  these  mysterious 
sounds  seemed  instinct  with  intelligence.  Mr.  Mompes- 
eon,  two  hundred  years  ago,  had  already  observed  a 
similar  phenomenon.  Glanvil  had  verified  it.  So  had 
Wesley  and  his  children.  So,  we  have  seen,  had  others. 
But  in  all  these  cases  the  matter  rested  there,  and  the 
observation  was  no  further  prosecuted.  As,  previous 
to  the  invention  of  the  steam-engine,  sundry  observers 
had  trodden  the  very  threshold  of  the  discovery  and 
there  stopped,  little  thinking  what  lay  close  before 
them,  so,  in  this  case,  where  the  Eoyal  Chaplain,  dis- 
ciple though  he  was  of  the  inductive  philosophy,  and 
where  the  founder  of  Methodism,  admitting  though  he 
did  the  probabilities  of  ultramundane  interference, 
were  both  at  fault,  a  Yankee  girl,  but  nine  years  old, 
following  up,  more  in  sport  than  earnest,  a  chance  ob- 
servation, became  the  instigator  of  a  movement  which, 
whatever  its  true  character,  has  had  its  influence 
throughout  the  civilized  world.  The  spark  had  several 
times  been  ignited, — once,  at  least,  two  centuries  ago; 
but  it  had  died  out  each  time  without  effect.  It  kindled 
no  flame  till  the  middle  of  the  nineteenth  century. 


818T    OF    MARCH,  1848.  289 

And  yet  how  trifling  the  step  from  the  observation  at 
Tedworth  to  the  discovery  at  Hydesville !  Mr.  Mom- 
pesson,  in  bed  with  his  little  daughter,  (about  Kate's 
age,)  whom  the  sound  seemed  chiefly  to  follow,  "ob- 
served that  it  would  exactly  answer,  in  drumming,  any 
thing  that  was  beaten  or  called  for."  But  his  curiosity 
led  him  no  further. 

Not  so  Kate  Fox.  She  tried,  by  silently  bringing  to- 
gether her  thumb  and  forefinger,  whether  she  could  still 
obtain  a  response.  Yes !  It  could  see,  then,  as  well  a^ 
hear  !  She  called  her  mother.  "  Only  look,  mother !"  she 
said,  bringing  together  her  finger  and  thumb  as  before. 
And  as  often  as  she  repeated  the  noiseless  motion,  just 
so  often  responded  the  raps. 

This  at  once  arrested  her  mother's  attention.  "Count 
ten,"  she  said,  addressing  the  noise.  Ten  strokes,  dis- 
tinctly given !  "How  old  is  my  daughter  Margaret?" 
Twelve  strokes!  "And  Kate?"  Nine!  "What  can 
all  this  mean?"  was  Mrs.  Fox's  thought.  Who  was 
answering  her  ?  Was  it  only  some  mysterious  echo  of 
her  own  thought?  But  the  next  question  which  she 
put  seemed  to  refute  that  idea.  "  How  many  children 
have  I?"  she  asked,  aloud.  Seven  strokes.  "Ah!"  she 
thought,  "it  can  blunder  sometimes."  And  then,  aloud, 
*Try  again!"  Still  the  number  of  raps  was  seven. 
Of  a  sudden  a  thought  crossed  Mrs.  Fox's  mind.  "Are 
they  all  alive  ?"  she  asked.  Silence,  for  answer.  "How 
many  are  living?"  Six  strokes.  " How  many  dead ?" 
A  single  stroke.     She  had  lost  a  child. 

Then  she  asked,  "Are  you  a  man?"  No  answer. 
"Are  you  a  spirit?"  It  rapped.  "May  my  neighbors 
hear  if  I  call  them  ?"     It  rapped  again. 

Thereupon  she  asked  her  husband  to  call  a  neighbor, 
a  Mrs.  Redfield,  who  came  in  laughing.  But  her  cheer 
was  soon  changed.  The  answers  to  her  inquiries  were 
T  25 


290  REPORT   OF   THE    MYSTERIOUS   N0ISE3. 

as  prompt  and  pertinent  as  they  had  been  to  those  of 
Mrs.  Fox.  She  was  struck  with  awe;  and  when,  in 
reply  to  a  question  about  the  number  of  her  children, 
by  rapping  four,  instead  of  three  as  she  expected,  it  re- 
minded her  of  a  little  daughter,  Mary,  whom  she  had 
recently  lost,  the  mother  burst  into  tears. 

But  it  avails  not  further  to  follow  out  in  minute 
detail  the  issue  of  these  disturbances,  since  the  par- 
ticulars have  already  been  given,  partly  in  the  shape  of 
formal  depositions,  in  more  than  one  publication,*  and 
since  they  are  not  essential  to  the  illustration  of  this 
branch  of  the  subject. 

It  may,  however,  be  satisfactory  to  the  reader  that  I 
here  subjoin  to  the  above  narrative — every  particular  of 
which  I  had  from  Mrs.  Fox,  her  daughters  Margaret 
and  Kate,  and  her  son  David — a  supplement,  containing 

*  The  earliest  of  these,  published  in  Canandaigua  only  three  weeks  after 
the  occurrences  of  the  31st  of  March,  is  a  pamphlet  of  forty  pages,  entitled 
"A  Report  of  the  Mysterious  Noises  heard  in  the  house  of  Mr.  John  D.  Fox, 
in  Hydesville,  Arcadia,  Wayne  County,  authenticated  by  the  certificates  and 
confirmed  by  the  statements  of  the  citizens  of  that  place  and  vicinity."  Canan- 
daigua, published  by  E.  E.  Lewis,  1848.  It  contains  twenty-one  certificates, 
chiefly  given  by  the  immediate  neighbors,  including  those  of  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Fox,  of  their  son  and  daughter-in-law,  of  Mrs.  Redfield,  Ac.  Ac,  taken  chiefly 
on  the  11th  and  12th  of  April.  For  a  copy  of  the  above  pamphlet,  now  very 
scarce,  I  am  indebted  to  the  family  of  Mr.  Fox,  whom  I  visited  in  August, 
1859,  at  the  house  of  the  son,  Mr.  David  Fox,  when  I  had  an  opportunity  to 
visit  the  small  dwelling  in  which  the  above-related  circumstances  took  place ; 
descending  to  its  cellar,  the  alleged  scene  of  dark  deeds.  The  house  is  now 
occupied  by  a  farm-laborer,  who,  Faraday-like,  "  does  not  believe  in  spooks." 

A  more  connected  account,  followed  up  by  a  history  of  the  movement 
which  had  birth  at  Hydesville,  is  to  be  found  in  "Modern  Spiritualism:  its 
Facts  and  Fanaticisms,"  by  E.  W.  Capron,  Boston,  1855,  pp.  33  to  56. 

Most  of  the  witnesses  signing  the  certificates  above  referred  to  offer  to 
confirm  their  statements,  if  necessary,  under  oath;  and  they  almost  all 
expressly  declare  their  conviction  that  the  family  had  no  agency  in  pro- 
ducing the  sounds,  that  these  were  not  referable  to  trick  or  deception  or 
to  any  known  natural  cause,  usually  adding  that  they  were  no  believers  in 
the  supernatural,  and  had  never  before  heard  or  witnessed  any  thing  not 
SttBceptible  of  a  natural  explanation. 


ALLEGATIONS    OF    THE    SOUNDS.  2!) I 

a  brief  outline  as  well  of  the  events  which  immediateiy 
succeeded,  as  those,  connected  with  the  dwelling  in 
question,  which  preceded,  the  disturbances  of  the  31st 
of  March. 

On  that  night  the  neighbors,  attracted  by  the  rumor 
of  the  disturbances,  gradually  gathered  in,  to  the  num- 
ber of  seventy  or  eighty,  so  that  Mrs.  Fox  left  the  house 
for  that  of  Mrs.  Eedfield,  while  the  children  were  taken 
home  by  another  neighbor.     Mr.  Fox  remained. 

Many  of  the  assembled  crowd,  one  after  another,  put 
questions  to  the  noises,  requesting  that  assent  might  be 
testified  by  rapping.  When  there  was  no  response  by 
raps,  and  the  question  was  reversed,  there  were  always 
rappings;  thus  indicating  that  silence  was  to  be  taken 
for  dissent. 

In  this  way  the  sounds  alleged  that  they  were  pro- 
duced by  a  spirit  j  by  an  injured  spirit ;  by  a  spirit  who 
had  been  injured  in  that  house ;  between  four  and  five 
years  ago ;  not  by  any  of  the  neighbors,  whose  names 
were  called  over  one  by  one,  but  by  a  man  who  formerly 
resided  in  the  house, — a  certain  John  C.  Bell,  a  black- 
smith. His  name  was  obtained  by  naming  in  succession 
the  former  occupants  of  the  house. 

The  noises  alleged,  further,  that  it  was  the  spirit  of  a 
man  thirty -one  years  of  age;  that  he  had  been  murdered 
in  the  bedroom,  for  money,  on  a  Tuesday  night,  at 
twelve  o'clock ;  that  no  one  but  the  murdered  man  and 
Mr.  Bell  were  in  the  house  at  the  time ;  Mrs.  Bell  and  a 
girl  named  Lucretia  Pulver,  who  worked  for  them, 
being  both  absent;  that  the  body  was  carried  down  to 
the  cellar  early  next  morning,  not  through  the  outside 
cellar-door,  but  by  being  dragged  through  the  parlor 
into  the  buttery  and  thence  down  the  cellar-stairs;  that 
it  was  buried,  ten  feet  deep,  in  the  cellar,  but  not  until 
the  night  after  the  murder. 

Thereupon    the   party   assembled    adjourned    to    the 


292  ANSWERS   OBTAINED   IN    THE   CELLAR. 

cellar,  which  had  an  earthen  floor;  and  Mr.  Eedfield 
having  placed  himself  on  various  parts  of  it^  asking, 
each  time,  if  that  was  the  spot  of  burial,  there  was  no 
response  until  he  stood  in  the  center:  then  the  noises 
were  heard,  as  from  beneath  the  ground.  This  was  re- 
peated several  times,  always  with  a  similar  result,  no 
sound  occurring  when  he  stood  at  any  other  place 
than  the  center.  One  of  the  witnesses  describes  the 
sounds  in  the  cellar  as  resembling  "a  thumping  a  foot 
or  two  under  ground."* 

Then  a  neighbor  named  Duesler  called  over  the  letters 
of  the  alphabet,  asking,  at  each,  if  that  was  the  initial 
of  the  murdered  man's  first  namej  and  so  of  the  second 
name.  The  sounds  responded  at  C  and  B.  An  attempt 
to  obtain  the  entire  name  did  not  then  succeed.  At  a 
later  period  the  full  name  (as  Charles  B.  Eosma)  was 
given  in  the  same  way  in  reply  to  the  questions  of  Mr. 
David  Fox.  Still  it  did  not  suggest  itself  to  any  one 
to  attempt,  by  the  raps,  to  have  a  communication  spelled 
out.  It  is  a  remarkable  fact,  and  one  which  in  a  mea- 
sure explains  the  lack  of  further  results  at  Ted  worth 
and  at  Epworth,  that  it  was  not  till  about  four  months 
afterward,  and  at  Eochester,  that  the  very  first  brief 


*  "Report  of  the  Mysterious  Noises"  p.  25.     See  also  p.  17. 

Mr.  Marvin  Losey  and  Mr.  David  Fox  state,  in  their  respective  certifi- 
cates, that  on  the  night  of  Saturday,  April  1,  when  the  crowd  were  asking 
questions,  it  was  arranged  that  those  in  the  cellar  should  all  stand  in  one 
place,  except  one,  Mr.  Carlos  Hyde,  while  that  one  moved  about  to  different 
spots ;  and  that  Mr.  Duesler,  being  in  the  bedroom  above,  where  of  course 
be  could  not  see  Mr.  Hyde  nor  any  one  else  in  the  cellar,  should  be  the 
questioner.  Then,  as  Mr.  Hyde  stepped  about  in  the  cellar,  the  question 
was  repeated  by  Mr.  Duesler  in  the  bedroom,  "  Is  any  one  standing  over  the 
place  where  the  body  was  buried  ?"  In  every  instance,  as  soon  as  Mr.  Hyde 
Stepped  to  the  center  of  the  cellar  the  raps  were  heard,  so  that  both  those 
in  the  cellar  and  those  in  the  rooms  above  heard  them;  but  as  often  as  he 
itood  anywhere  else  there  was  silence.  This  was  repeated,  again  and  aga'.u 
—"Report  oj  ,tke  Mysteriotu  Jioises,"  pp.  26  and  28. 


GREAT    EXCITEMENT.  299 

communication  by  raps  was  obtained;  the  suggester 
being  Isaac  Post,  a  member  of  the  Society  of  Friends, 
and  an  old  acquaintance  of  the  Fox  family. 

The  report  of  the  night's  wonders  at  Hydesville 
spread  all  over  the  neighborhood ;  and  next  day,  Satur- 
day, the  house  was  beset  by  a  crowd  of  the  curious. 
But  while  daylight  lasted  there  were  no  noises.*  These 
recommenced  before  seven  o'clock  in  the  evening.  That 
night  there  were  some  three  hundred  people  in  and 
about  the  house.f  Various  persons  asked  questions; 
and  the  replies  corresponded  at  every  point  to  those 
formerly  given. 

Then  it  was  proposed  to  dig  in  the  cellar;  but,  as  the 
house  stands  on  a  flat  plain  not  far  from  a  small  slug- 
gish stream,  the  diggers  reached  water  at  the  depth  of 
less  than  three  feet,  and  had  to  abandon  the  attempt. 
It  was  renewed  on  Monday  the  3d  of  April,  and 
again  the  next  day,  by  Mr.  David  Fox  and  others, 
baling  and  pumping  out  the  water;  but  they  could  not 
reduce  it  much,  and  had  to  give  up.{ 

At  a  later  period,  when  the  water  had  much  lowered, 
to  wit,  in  the  summer  of  1848,  Mr.  David  Fox,  aided  by 
Messrs.  Henry  Bush  and  Lyman  Granger,  of  Eochester, 
and  others,  recommenced  digging  in  the  cellar.  At  the 
depth  of  five  feet  they  came  to  a  plank,  through  which 
they  bored  with  an  auger,  when,  the  auger-bit  being 
loose,  it  dropped  through  out  of  sight.  Digging  farther, 
they  found  several  pieces  of  crockery  and  some  charcoal 
and  quicklime,  indicating  that  the  soil  must  at  some 
time  have  been  disturbed  to  a  considerable  depth ;  and 
finally  they  came  upon  some  human  hair  and  several 
bones,  which,  on  examination  by  a  medical  man  skilled 

*  The  next  day,  however,  Sunday,  April  2,  this  was  reversed.  The 
\ioise3  responded  throughout  the  day,  but  ceased  in  the  evening  and  were 
not  obtained  throughout  the  night. — "  Report  of  the  Mytterioxia  Noiaea,"  p.  9. 

f  "Report  of  the  My»terio\i»  Noitea,"  p.  15.  t  Ibid.  p.  29. 

25* 


294  DEPOSITIONS   OF 

ill  antttoniy,  proved  to  be  portions  of  a  human  skeleton, 
including  two  bones  of  the  hand  and  certain  parts  of 
the  skull :  but  no  connected  skull  was  found.* 

It  remains  briefly  to  trace  the  antecedents  of  the  dis- 
turbed dwelling. 

William  Duesler,  one  of  those  who  gave  certificates 
touching  this  matter,  and  who  offers  to  confirm  his  tes- 
timony under  oath,  states  that  he  inhabited  the  same 
house  seven  years  before,  and  that  during  the  term  of 
his  residence  there  he  never  heard  any  noise  of  the  kind 
in  or  about  the  premises.  He  adds  that  a  Mr.  Johnson, 
and  others,  who,  like  himself,  had  lived  there  before  Mr. 
Bell  occupied  the  dwelling,  make  the  same  statement.^ 

Mrs.  Pulver,  a  near  neighbor,  states  that,  having  called 
one  morning  on  Mrs.  Bell  while  she  occupied  the  house, 
she  (Mrs.  B.)  told  her  she  felt  very  ill,  not  having  slept 
at  all  during  the  previous  night ;  and,  on  being  asked 
what  the  matter  was,  Mrs.  Bell  said  she  had  thought 
she  heard  some  one  walking  about  from  one  room  t4 
another.  Mrs.  Pulver  further  deposes  that  she  heard 
Mrs.  Bell,  on  subsequent  occasions,  speak  of  noises 
which  she  could  not  account  for.J 

The  daughter  of  this  deponent,  Lucretia  Pulver,  states 
that  she  lived  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bell  during  part  of  the 
time  they  occupied  the  house,  namely,  for  three  months 
during  the  winter  of  1843-44,  sometimes  working  for 
them,  sometimes  boarding  with  them,  and  going  to 
school,  she  being  then  fifteen  years  old.  She  says  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Bell  "  appeared  to  be  very  good  folks,  only 
rather  quick-tempered." 

She  states  that,  during  the  latter  part  of  her  residence 
with  them,  one  afternoon,  about  two  o'clock,  a  peddler, 
on  foot,  apparently  about  thirty  years  of  age,  wearing  a 

*  "  Modern  Spiritualism,"  p.  53.  Mr.  David  Pox,  during  my  \  isit  t-o 
him,  confirmed  to  me  the  truth  of  this. 

t  *'  Report  of  the  Myaterioua  Noiaea,"  p.  16.  J  Ib:i  pp,  i/l,  38. 


SEVERAL    NEinHBORS.  295 

black  frock-coat  and  light-colored  pantaloons,  and  having 
with  him  a  trunk  and  a  basket,  called  at  Mr.  Bell's.  Mrs. 
Bell  informed  her  she  had  known  him  formerly.  Shortly 
after  he  came  in,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bell  consulted  together  for 
nearly  half  an  hour  in  the  buttery.  Then  Mrs.  Bell  told 
her — very  unexpectedly  to  her — that  they  did  not  re- 
quire her  any  more ;  that  she  (Mrs.  B.)  was  going  that 
afternoon  to  Lock  Berlin,  and  that  she  (Lucretia)  had 
better  return  home,  as  they  thought  they  could  not 
afford  to  keep  her  longer.  Accordingly,  Mrs.  Bell  and 
Lucretia  left  the  house,  the  peddler  and  Mr.  Bell  re- 
maining. Before  she  went,  however,  Lucretia  looked 
at  a  piece  of  delaine,  and  told  the  peddler  she  would  take 
a  dress  off  it  if  he  would  call  the  next  day  at  her  father's 
house,  hard  by,  which  he  promised  to  do ;  but  he  never 
came.  Three  days  afterward,  Mrs.  Bell  returned,  and, 
to  Lucretia's  surprise,  sent  for  her  again  to  stay  with 
them. 

A  few  days  after  this,  Lucretia  began  to  hear  knock- 
ing in  the  bedroom — afterward  occupied  by  Mr.  and 
Mrs.  Fox — where  she  slept.  The  sounds  seemed  to  be 
under  the  foot  of  the  bed,  and  were  repeated  during  a 
number  of  nights.  One  night,  when  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Bell 
had  gone  to  Lock  Berlin,  and  she  had  remained  in  tbo 
house  with  her  little  brother  and  a  daughter  of  Mr. 
Losey,  named  Aurelia,  they  heard,  about  twelve  o'clock, 
what  seemed  the  footsteps  of  a  man  walking  in  the  but- 
tery-. They  had  not  gone  to  bed  till  eleven,  and  had 
not  yet  fallen  asleep.  It  sounded  as  if  some  one  crossed 
the  buttery,  then  went  down  the  cellar-stair,  then 
^iv^alked  part  of  the  way  across  the  cellar,  and  stopped. 
The  girls  were  greatly  frightened,  got  up  and  fastened 
doors  and  windows. 

About  a  week  after  this,  Lucretia,  having  occasion  to 
go  down  into  the  cellar,  screamed  out.  Mrs.  Bell  asked 
what  was  the  matter.     Lucretia  exclaimed,  "  What  has 


2&6  PREVIOUS    DISTURBANCES. 

Mr.  Bell  been  doing  in  the  cellar  V  She  had  sunk  in  the 
soft  soil  and  fallen.  Mrs.  Bell  replied  that  it  "was  only 
rat-holes.  A  few  days  afterward,  at  nightfall,  Mr.  Bell 
carried  some  earth  into  the  cellar,  and  was  at  work 
there  some  time.  Mrs.  Bell  said  he  was  filling  up  the 
rat-holes.* 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Weekman  depose  that  they  occupied  the 
house  in  question,  after  Mr.  Bell  left  it,  during  eighteen 
months,  namely,  from  the  spring  of  1846  till  the  autumn 
of  1847. 

About  March,  1847,  one  night  as  they  were  going  to 
bed  they  heard  knockings  on  the  outside  door;  but  when 
they  opened  there  was  no  one  there.  This  was  repeated, 
till  Mr.  Weekman  lost  patience ;  and,  after  searching  all 
round  the  house,  he  resolved,  if  possible,  to  detect  these 
disturbers  of  his  peace.  Accordingly,  he  stood  with  his 
hand  on  the  door,  ready  to  open  it  at  the  instant  the 
knocking  was  repeated.  It  was  repeated,  so  that  he  felt 
the  door  jar  under  his  hand ;  but,  though  he  sprang  out 
instantly  and  searched  all  round  the  house,  he  found 
not  a  trace  of  any  intruder. 

They  were  frequently  afterward  disturbed  by  strange 
and  unaccountable  noises.  One  night  Mrs.  Weekman 
heard  what  seemed  the  footsteps  of  some  one  walking 
in  the  cellar.  Another  night  one  of  her  little  girls,  eight 
years  old,  screamed  out,  so  as  to  wake  every  one  in  the 
house.  She  said  something  cold  had  been  moving  over 
her  head  and  face;  and  it  was  long  ere  the  terrified 
child  was  pacified,  nor  would  she  consent  to  sleep  in  the 
same  room  for  several  nights  afterward. 

Mr.  Weekman  oifers  to  repeat  his  certificate,  if  re- 
quired, under  oath.-f 


*  "  Report  of  the  Mysterious  Noises,"  pp.  35,  36,  37.     I  have  added  a  few 
minor  particulars,  related  by  Lueretia  to  Mrs.  Fox. 
t  Ibid.  pp.  33,  34. 


TWO  PEDDLERS   DISAPPEAR.  297 

But  it  needs  not  further  to  multiply  extracts  from 
these  depositions.  Nothing  positive  can  be  gathered 
from  them.  It  is  certain,  however,  that  the  peddler  never 
reappeared  in  Hydesville  nor  kept  his  promises  to  call. 
On  the  other  hand,  Mr.  Bell,  who  had  removed  early  in 
1846  to  the  town  of  Lyons,  in  the  same  county,  on  hear- 
ing the  reports  of  the  above  disclosures,  came  forthwith 
to  the  scene  of  his  former  residence,  and  obtained  from 
the  neighbors,  and  made  public,  a  certificate  setting 
forth  that  "  they  never  knew  any  thing  against  his  cha- 
racter," and  that  when  he  lived  among  them  "they 
thought  him,  and  still  think  him,  a  man  of  honest  and 
upright  character,  incapable  of  committing  crime."  This 
certificate  is  dated  April  5,  (six  days  after  the  first  com- 
munications,) and  is  signed  by  forty-four  persons.  The 
author  of  the  "  Eeport  of  the  Mysterious  Noises,"  in 
giving  it  entire,  adds  that  others  besides  the  signers  are 
willing  to  join  in  the  recommendation.* 

It  is  proper  also  to  state,  in  this  connection,  that,  a 
few  months  afterward, — to  wit,  in  July  or  August,  1848, — 
a  circumstance  occurred  at  Eochester,  New  York,  some- 
what analogous  in  character,  and  indicating  the  danger 
of  indulging,  without  corroborating  evidence,  in  suspi- 
cions aroused  by  alleged  spiritual  information.  A  young 
peddler,  with  a  wagon  and  two  horses,  and  known  to  be 
possessed  of  several  hundred  dollars,  having  put  up  at  a 
tavern  in  that  city,  suddenly  disappeared.  Public  opi- 
nion settled  down  to  the  belief  that  he  was  murdered. 
An  enthusiastic  Spiritualist  had  the  surmise  confirmed 
by  the  raps.  Through  the  same  medium  the  credulous 
inquirer  was  infonned  that  the  body  lay  in  the  canal, 
several  spots  being  successively  indicated  where  it  could 
be  found.  These  were  anxiously  dragged,  but  to  no  pur- 
pose.   Finally  the  dupe's  wife  was  required  to  go  into 

♦  "  Report  of  the  Mytterioua  Noitet,"  pp.  .38,  39. 


298  THE   LOST   REAPPEARS. 

the  canal  at  a  designated  point,  where  she  would  cer. 
tairily  discover  the  corpse;  in  obeying  which  injunction 
she  nearly  lost  her  life.  Some  months  afterward,  the 
alleged  victim  reappeared  :  he  had  departed  secretly  for 
Canada,  to  avoid  the  importunities  of  his  creditors.* 

In  the  Hydesville  case,  too,  there  was  some  rebutting 
evidence.  The  raps  had  alleged  that,  though  the  peddler's 
wife  was  dead,  his  five  children  lived  in  Orange  County, 
New  York;  but  all  efforts  to  discover  them  there  were 
fruitless.  Nor  does  it  appear  that  any  man  named 
Rosma  was  ascertained  to  have  resided  there. 

It  remains  to  be  added  that  no  legal  proceedings  were 
ever  instituted,  either  against  Mr.  Bell,  in  virtue  of  the 
suspicions  aroused,  or  by  him  against  those  who  ex- 
pressed such  suspicions.     He  finally  left  the  country. 

It  is  evident  that  no  sufficient  case  is  made  out  against 
him.  The  statements  of  the  earthly  witnesses  amount 
to  circumstantial  evidence  only;  and  upon  unsupported 
ultramundane  testimony  no  dependence  can  be  placed. 
It  may  supply  hints;  it  may  suggest  inquiries;  but  as- 
surance it  cannot  give. 

The  Hydesville  narrative,  however,  as  one  of  unex- 
plained disturbances,  like  those  at  Cideville,  at  Ahrens- 
burg,  at  Slawensik,  at  Epworth,  and  at  Tedworth,  rests 
for  verification  on  the  reality  of  the  phenomena  them- 
selves, not  on  the  accuracy  of  the  extrinsic  information 
alleged  to  be  thereby  supplied. 


*  For  details,  see  "  Modern  Spiritualism,"  pp.  60  to  62.  If  we  concede 
the  reality  of  the  spirit-rap,  and  if  we  assume  to  judge  of  ultramundane  in- 
tentions, we  may  imagine  that  the  purpose  was,  by  so  early  and  so  marked 
a  lesson,  to  warn  men,  even  from  the  commencement,  against  putting  im- 
plicit faith  in  spiritual  communications. 

It  is  worthy  of  remark,  however,  that  there  is  this  great  difference  in 
these  two  cases,  mat  the  Hydesville  communications  came  by  spontaneous 
agency,  uncalled  for,  unlooked  for,  ^hile  those  ojbtained  at  Rochest<«r  wero 
evoked  and  expected. 


THE   STRATFORD   DISTURBANCES.  299 

With  this  case  I  close  the  list  of  these  narrations;  for 
to  follow  up  similar  examples,  since  occurring  through- 
out our  country,*  would  lead  me,  away  from  my  object, 
into  the  history  of  the  rise  and  progress  of  the  Spiritual 
movement  itself. 

*  As  that  occurring  at  Stratford,  Connecticut,  in  the  house  of  the  Rer 
Dr.  Eliakim  Phelps,  more  whimsical,  and  also  more  surprising,  in  many  of 
its  modiHoations,  than  any  of  those  here  related;  commencing  on  the  10th 
of  March,  1850,  and  continuing,  with  intervals,  a  year  and  nine  months; 
namely,  till  the  15th  of  December,  1851.  A  detailed  account  of  this  cam 
will  be  found  in  ** Modem  Spiritualism,"  pp.  133  to  171. 


CHAPTEE  III. 

SUMMING   UP. 

I  HAVE  few  words  to  add,  in  summing  ap  tne  foregoing 
evidence  that  the  disturbances  which  give  rise  to  rumors 
of  haunted  houses  are,  in  certain  cases,  actual  and  un- 
explained phenomena. 

Little  comment  is  needed,  or  is  likely  to  be  useful. 
There  are  men  so  hard-set  in  their  preconceptions  on 
certain  points  that  no  evidence  can  move  them.  Time 
and  the  resistless  current  of  public  sentiment  alone  avail 
to  urge  them  on.  They  must  wait.  And  as  to  those 
whose  ears  are  still  open,  whose  convictions  can  still  be 
reached,  few,  I  venture  to  predict,  will  put  aside,  un- 
moved and  incredulous,  the  mass  of  proof  here  brought 
together.  Yet  a  few  considerations,  briefly  stated,  may 
not  be  out  of  place. 

The  testimony,  in  most  of  the  examples,  is  direct  and 
at  first  hand,  given  by  eye  and  ear  witnesses  and  placed 
on  record  at  the  time. 

It  is  derived  from  reputable  sources.  Can  we  take 
exception  to  the  character  and  standing  of  such  wit- 
nesses as  Joseph  Glanvil,  John  Wesley,  Justinus  Kerner? 
Can  we  object  to  the  authority  of  Mackay,  a  skeptic  and 
a  derider?  Does  not  the  narrative  of  Hahn  evince  in 
the  observer  both  coolness  and  candor?  As  to  the 
Ahrensburg  story,  it  is  the  daughter  of  the  chief  ma- 
gistrate concerned  in  its  investigation  who  testifies. 
And  where  shall  we  find,  among  ^  multitude  of  witnesses, 
better  proof  of  honesty  than  in  the  agreement  in  the 
depositions  at  Cideville  and  at  Hydesville  ? 

The  phenomena  were  such  as  could  be  readily  observed. 
Many  of  them  were  of  a  character  so  palpable  and  no- 


OBSERVATIONS    ON    THE    FOREGOING.  301 

torious  that  for  the  observers  to  imagine  them  was  a 
sheer  impossibility.  The  thundering  blows  at  Mr.  Mom- 
pesson's  shook  the  house  and  awoke  the  neighbors  in  an 
adjoining  village.  The  poundings  at  Madame  Hauffe's 
displaced  the  rafters  and  arrested  the  attention  of  passers- 
by  in  the  street.  At  Epworth,  let  them  make  what 
noises  they  might,  the  "dead,  hollow  note  would  be 
dearly  heard  above  them  all."  At  Hydesville,  the  house 
was  abandoned  by  its  occupants,,  and  hundreds  of  the 
curious  assembled,  night  after  night,  to  test  the  reality 
of  the  knockings  which  sounded  from  every  part  of  it. 

There  was  ample  opportunity  to  observe.  The  occur- 
rences were  not  single  appearances,  suddenly  presenting 
themselves,  quickly  passing  away:  they  were  repeated 
day  after  day,  month  after  month,  sometimes  year  after 
year.  They  could  be  tested  and  re-tested.  Nor  did 
they  produce  in  the  witnesses  an  evanescent  belief, 
fading  away  after  sober  reflection.  Mr.  Mompesson, 
Councilor  Hahn,  Emily  Wesley,  when  half  a  lifetime 
had  passed  by,  retained,  and  expressed,  the  same  un- 
wavering conviction  as  at  first. 

The  narratives  fail  neither  in  minute  detail  of  circum- 
stance, nor  in  specifications  of  person,  of  time,  and  of 
place. 

The  observers  were  not  influenced  by  expectancy,  nor 
biased  by  recital  of  previous  examples.  The  pheno- 
mena, indeed,  have  been  of  frequent  occurrence;  exhi- 
biting an  unmistakable  family  likeness,  constituting  a 
class.  Yet  not  in  a  single  instance  does  this  fact  appear 
to  have  been  known  to  the  observers.  That  which  each 
witnessed  he  believed  to  bo  unexampled.  Neither  at 
Tedworth,  nor  Epworth,  nor  Slawensik,  nor  Baldarroch, 
nor  Ahrensburg,  nor  Cideville,  nor  Hydesville,  do  the 
sufferers  seem  to  have  known  that  others  had  suflPered 
by  similar  annoyance  before.  The  more  reliable,  on 
that  account,  is  their  testimony. 

26 


802  WHITHER   ULTRA   SKEPTICISM   LEADS. 

There  was  not  only  no  motive  for  simulation,  but 
much  temptation  to  conceal  what  actually  occurred. 
Mr.  Mompesson  suffered  in  his  name  and  estate.  Mrs. 
Wesley  strictly  enjoined  her  son  to  impart  the  narrative 
to  no  one.  Judge  Eousselin  found  the  curate  of  Cide- 
ville  profoundly  afflicted  by  his  painful  position.  Mrs. 
Fox's  health  (as  I  learned)  suffered  seriously  from  grief. 
"What  have  we  done/'  she  used  to  say,  "to  deserve 
this  ?"  We  can  readily  conceive  that  such  must  have 
been  the  feeling.  What  more  mortifying  or  painful  than 
to  be  exposed  to  the  suspicion  of  being  either  a  willful 
impostor,  or  else  the  subject  of  punishment,  from  Hea- 
ven, for  past  misdeeds  ? 

Finally,  the  phenomena  were  sometimes  attested  by 
the  official  records  of  public  justice.  So,  during  the 
trial  of  the  drummer,  the  suit  of  Captain  Moles  worth, 
and  the  legal  proceedings  instituted,  at  Gideville,  against 
the  shepherd  Thorel.  Where  shall  we  seek  a  higher 
grade  of  human  evidence? 

If  such  an  array  of  testimony  as  this,  lacking  no  ele- 
ment of  trustworthiness,  converging  from  numerous  in- 
dependent sources,  yet  concurrent  through  two  centuries, 
be  not  entitled  to  credit,  then  what  dependence  can  we 
place  on  the  entire  records  of  history?  What  becomes 
of  the  historical  evidence  for  any  past  event  whatever? 
If  we  are  to  reject,  as  fable,  the  narratives  here  sub 
mitted,  are  we  not  tacitly  indorsing  the  logic  of  those  who 
argue  that  Jesus  Christ  never  lived  ?  Nay,  must  we  not 
accept  as  something  graver  than  pleasantry  that 
pamphlet  in  which  a  learned  and  ingenious  Churchman 
sets  forth  plausible  reasons  for  the  belief  that  rumor,  in 
her  most  notorious  iterations,  may  be  but  a  lying  wit- 
ness, and  that  it  is  doubtful  whether  Napoleon  Buona- 
parte ever  actually  existed?* 

*  "Historic  Doubts  relative   to  Napoleon  Buonapartt ,"  by  Archbishop 
Whately,  12th   ed.,  London,  1855. 


BOOK  IV. 

OF  APPEARANCES  COMMONLY  CALLED  APPARITIONS 
CHAPTEE  I. 

TOUCHING   HALLUCINATION. 

The  evidence  for  a  future  life  derived  from  an  occa- 
sional appearance  of  the  dead,  provided  that  appearance 
prove  to  be  an  objective  phenomenon,  and  provided  we 
do  not  misconceive  its  character,  is  of  the  highest  grade. 
If  it  be  important,  then,  to  obtain  a  valuable  contribu- 
tion to  the  proofs  of  the  soul's  immortality,  what  more 
worthy  of  our  attention  than  the  subject  of  apparitions? 

But  in  proportion  to  its  importance  and  to  its  extra- 
ordinary character  is  the  urgent  propriety  that  it  be 
scrupulously,  even  distrustfully,  examined,  and  that  its 
reality  be  tested  with  dispassionate  care. 

For  its  discussion  involves  the  theory  of  hallucination; 
a  branch  of  inquiry  which  has  much  engaged,  as  indeed 
it  ought,  the  attention  of  modern  physiologists. 

That  pure  hallucinations  occur,  we  cannot  rationally 
doubt;  but  what  are,  and  what  are  not,  hallucinations,  it 
may  be  more  difficult  to  determine  than  superficial  ob- 
servers are  wont  to  imagine. 

Hallucination,  according  to  the  usual  definition,  con- 
sists of  ideas  and  sensations  conveying  unreal  impres- 
sions. It  is  an  example  of  false  testimony  (not  al- 
ways credited)  apparently  given  by  the  senses  in  a  dis- 
eased or  abnormal  state  of  the  human  organization. 

803   . 


304  THE  IMAGE  ON  THE  RETINA. 

"It  is  evident,"  says  Calmeil,  "that  if  the  same  mate- 
rial combination  which  takes  place  in  the  brain  of  a 
man  at  the  sight  of  a  tree,  of  a  dog,  of  a  horse,  is  capa- 
ble 0£  being  reproduced  at  a  moment  when  these  objects 
are  no  longer  within  sight,  then  that  man  will  persist  in 
believing  that  he  still  sees  a  horse,  a  dog,  or  a  tree."* 

It  is  a  curious  question,  not  yet  fully  settled  by  medi- 
cal writers  on  the  subject,  whether  hallucinations  of  the 
sight  cause  an  actual  image  on  the  retina.  Burdach, 
Miiller,f  Baillarger,t  and  others,  who  maintain  the  affirm- 
ative, remind  us  that  patients  who  have  recovered 
from  an  attack  of  hallucination  always  say,  'I  saw;  I 
heard;'  thus  speaking  as  of  actual  sensations.  Decham- 
bre§  and  De  Boismont,  who  assume  the  negative,  adduce 
in  support  of  their  opinion  the  facts  that  a  patient  who 
has  lost  his  leg  will  still  complain  of  cold  or  pain  in  the 
toes  of  the  amputated  foot,  and  that  men  blind  from 
amaurosis,  where  there  is  paralysis  of  the  optic  nerve, 
are  still  subject  to  visual  hallucinations.  The  latter 
seems  the  better  opinion.  How  can  a  mere  mental  con- 
ception (as  Dechambre  has  argued)  produce  an  image 
in  the  eye?  And  to  what  purpose?  For,  if  the  concep- 
tion is  already  existing  in  the  brain,  what  need  of  the 
eye  to  convey  it  thither?  If  it  could  be  proved,  in  any 
given  case,  that  a  real  image  had  been  produced  on  the 
surface  of  the  retina,  it  would,  I  think,  go  far  to  prove, 


*  "Be  la  Folie,"  vol.  i.  p.  113. 

f  I  have  not  access  to  the  German  originals ;  but  both  Burdach  and 
MUUer  have  been  translated  into  French  by  Jourdain ;  see  Burdach's 
"  Traits  de  Phyaiologie,"  Paris,  1839,  vol.  v.  p.  206,  and  Miiller's  "  Manuel 
de  Phyaiologie,"  Paris,  1845,  vol.  ii.  p.  686. 

\  Baillarger;  "  Dea  Hallucinations,  &c.,"  published  in  the  "Mimoirea  d* 
V  Academie  Eoyale  de  MSdecinc,"  vol.  xii.  p.  369. 

§  Dechambre's  "Analyse  de  I'Ouvrage  du  Doctcnr  Szafkowahi  aur  lea  Hallu- 
einatiuna,"  published  in  the  "  Gazette  Midicale"  for  1850,  p.  274. 

I  am  indebted  to  De  Boismont  for  most  of  these  references.  S«e  hik 
work,  " Dea  Halluctnationa,"  Paris,  1852,  chap.  16. 


EFFECJTS   OF   IMAQINATION.  806 

also,  that  an  objective  reality  must  have  been  present 
to  produce  it.  And  so  also  of  sonorous  undulations 
actually  received  by  the  tympanum. 

This  will  more  clearly  appear  if  we  take  instances  of 
hallucination  of  other  senses, — as  of  smell  and  touch 
Professor  Bennett,  of  Scotland,  in  a  pamphlet  against 
Mesmerism,*  vouches  for  two  examples  adduced  by  him 
to  prove  the  power  of  imagination.  He  relates  the  first 
as  follows: — "A  clergyman  told  me  that,  some  time  ago, 
suspicions  were  entertained  in  his  parish  of  a  woman 
who  was  supposed  to  have  poisoned  her  newly-born  in- 
fant. The  coffin  was  exhumed,  and  the  procurator- 
fiscal,  who  attended  with  the  medical  men  to  examine 
the  body,  declared  that  he  already  perceived  the  odor 
of  decomposition,  which  made  him  feel  faint;  and,  in 
consequence,  he  withdrew.  But  on  opening  the  coffin 
it  was  found  to  be  empty;  and  it  was  afterward  ascer- 
tained that  no  child  had  been  born,  and,  consequently,  no 
murder  committed."  Are  we  to  suppose  that  the  olfac- 
tory nerve  was  acted  upon  by  an  odor  when  the  odor 
was  not  there?  But  here  is  the  other  case,  from  the 
same  pamphlet.  ''A  butcher  was  brought  into  the  shop 
of  Mr.  McFarlane,  the  druggist,  from  the  market-place 
opposite,  laboring  under  a  terrible  accident.  The  man, 
in  trying  to  hook  up  a  heavy  piece  of  meat  above  his 
head,  slipped,  and  the  sharp  hook  penetrated  his  arm, 
so  that  he  himself  was  suspended.  On  being  examined, 
he  was  pale,  almost  pulseless,  and  expressed  himself  as 
suffering  acute  agony.  The  arm  could  not  be  moved 
without  causing  excessive  pain,  and  in  catting  off  the 
sleeve  he  frequently  cried  out;  yet  when  the  arm  was 
exposed  it  was  found  to  be  perfectly  uninjured,  the  hook 
having  only  traversed  the  sleeve  of  his  coat!"  What 
acted,  in  this  case,  on  the  nerves  of  sensation?     There 

♦  "  The  Memterie  Mania  of  1851,"  Edinburgh,  1851. 
0  26* 


SU6  EXAMPLES   OF   VARIOUS 

wa&  net  the  (slightest  lesion  to  do  this ;  yet  the  effect  od 
the  brain  was  exactly  the  same  as  if  these  nerves  had 
been  actually  irritated,  and  that,  too,  in  the  most  serious 
manner. 

The  senses  which  most  frequently  seem  to  delude 
us  are  sight  and  hearing.  Dr.  Carpenter  mentions  the 
case  of  a  lady,  a  near  relative  of  his,  who,  "having  been 
frightened  in  childhood  by  a  black  cat  which  sprang  up 
from  beneath  her  pillow  just  as  she  was  laying  her  head 
upon  it,  was  accustomed  for  many  years  afterward,  when- 
ever she  was  at  all  indisposed,  to  see  a  black  cat  on  the 
ground  before  her;  and,  although  perfectly  aware  of  the 
spectral  character  of  the  appearance,  yet  she  could  never 
avoid  lifting  her  foot  as  if  to  step  over  the  cat  when  it 
appeared  to  be  lying  in  her  path."*  Another  lady, 
mentioned  by  Calmeil,  continued,  for  upward  of  ten 
years,  to  imagine  that  a  multitude  of  birds  were  con- 
stantly on  the  wing,  flying  close  to  her  head;  and  she 
never  sat  down  to  dinner  without  setting  aside  crumbs 
of  bread  for  her  visionary  attendants.f 

So  of  auditory  hallucinations,  where  the  sense  of  hear- 
ing appears  to  play  us  false.  Writers  on  the  subject 
record  the  cases  of  patients  who  have  been  pursued  for 
years,  or  through  life,  by  unknown  voices,  sounds  of 
bells,  strains  of  music,  hissing,  barking,  and  the  like. 
In  many  cases  the  sounds  seemed,  to  the  hallucinated, 
to  proceed  from  tombs,  from  caverns,  from  beneath  the 
ground ;  sometimes  the  voice  was  imagined  to  be  inter- 
nal, as  from  the  breast  or  other  portions  of  the  body.J 

*  "  Prtnciplea  of  Human  Physiology,"  5th  ed.,  London,  1865,  p.  564. 

f  Calmeil,  vol.  i.  p.  11.  I  do  not  cite  more  apocryphal  cases,  as  when 
F  ic,  in  his  life  of  the  noted  Benedictine  Savonarola,  tells  us  that  the  Holy 
Ghost,  on  several  occasions,  lit  on  the  shoulders  of  the  pious  monk,  who 
was  lost  in  admiration  of  its  golden  plumage ;  and  that  when  the  divine 
bird  introduced  its  beak  into  his  ear  he  heard  a  murmur  of  a  most  peculiai 
description. — J.  F.  Pic,  in  Vitd  Savonarola,  p.  124. 

X  Calmeil,  work  cited,  vol.  i.  p.  8. 


PHASES    OF    HALLUCINATION.  S07 

Calmeil  relates  the  example  of  an  aged  courtier  who^ 
imagining  that  he  heard  rivals  continually  defaming 
him  in  presence  of  his  sovereign,  used  constantly  to  ex- 
claim, "They  lie!  you  are  deceived!  I  am  calumniated, 
my  prince."*  And  he  mentions  the  case  of  anothei 
monomaniac  who  could  not,  without  a  fit  of  rage,  hear 
pronounced  the  name  of  a  town  which  recalled  to  him 
painful  recollections.  Children  at  the  breast,  the  birds 
of  the  air,  bells  from  every  clock-tower,  repeated,  to  his 
diseased  hearing,  the  detested  name. 

These  all  appear  to  be  cases  of  simple  hallucination; 
against  which,  it  may  be  remarked,  perfect  soundness 
of  mind  is  no  guarantee.  Hallucination  is  not  insanity. 
It  is  found,  sometimes,  disconnected  not  only  from  in- 
sanity, but  from  monomania  in  its  mildest  type.  I 
knew  well  a  lady  who,  more  than  once,  distinctly  saw 
feet  ascending  the  stairs  before  her.  Yet  neither  hef 
physician  nor  she  herself  ever  regarded  this  apparent 
marvel  in  other  light  than  as  an  optical  vagary  de- 
pendent on  her  state  of  health. 

In  each  of  the  cases  above  cited,  it  will  be  remarked 
that  one  person  only  was  misled  by.  deception  of 
sense.  And  this  brings  me  to  speak  of  an  important 
distinction  made  by  the  best  writers  on  this  subject: 
the  difference,  namely,  between  hallucination  and  illu- 
sion :  the  former  being  held  to  mean  a  false  perception 
of  that  which  has  no  existence  whatever;  the  latter,  an 
incorrect  perception  of  something  which  actually  exists. 
The  lady  who  raised  her  foot  to  step  over  a  black  cat, 
when,  in  point  of  fact,  there  was  nothing  there  to  step 
over,  is  deemed  to  be  the  victim  of  a  hallucination. 
Nicolai,  the  Berlin  bookseller,  is  usually  cited  as  one  of 
the  most  noted  cases;  and  his  memoir  on  the  subject, 
addressed  to  the  Eoyal  Society  of  Berlin,  of  which  he 

»  CaltMtl,  work  cited,  vol  i.  p.  7. 


308  ILLUSION   AND    HALLUCINATION. 

was  a  member,  is  given  as  a  rare  example  of  philoso* 
phical  and  careful  analysis  of  what  he  himself  regarded 
as  a  si^ries  of  false  sensations.*  He  imagined  (so  he  re- 
lates) that  his  room  was  full  of  human  figures,  moving 
about;  all  the  exact  counterpart  of  living  persons,  ex- 
cept that  they  were  somewhat  paler;  some  known  to 
him,  some  strangers;  who  occasionally  spoke  to  each 
other  and  to  him;  so  that  at  times  he  was  in  doubt 
whether  or  not  some  of  his  friends  had  come  to  visit  him. 
An  illusion,  unlike  a  hallucination,  has  a  foundation 
in  reality.  We  actually  see  or  hear  something,  which 
we  mistake  for  something  else.-j-  The  mirage  of  the 
Desert,  the  Fata  Morgana  of  the  Mediterranean,  are 
well-known  examples.  Many  superstitions  hence  take 
their  rise.  Witness  the  Giant  of  the  Brocken,  aerial 
armies  contending  in  the  clouds,  and  the  like.J 

*  Nicolai  read  his  memoir  on  the  subject  of  the  specters  or  phantoms 
which  disturbed  him,  with  psychological  remarks  thereon,  to  the  Royal 
Society  of  Berlin,  on  the  28th  of  February,  1799.  The  translation  of  this 
paper  is  given  in  Nicholson's  Journal,  vol.  vi.  p.  161. 

■J-  In  actual  mania,  hallucinations  are  commonly  set  down  as  much  more 
frequent  than  illusions.  De  Boismont  mentions  that,  out  of  one  hundred 
and  eighty-one  cases  of  mania  observed  by  Messrs.  Aubanel  and  Thore, 
illusions  showed  themselves  in  sixteen  instances,  while  hallucination 
supervened  in  fifty-four.  The  exact  list  was  as  follows:  Illusions  of  sight, 
nine;  of  hearing,  seven;  hallucinations  of  hearing,  twenty-three;  of  sight, 
twenty-one;  of  taste,  five;  of  touch,  two;  of  smell,  one;  internal,  two. — 
*^Dcs  Hallucinations,"  p.  168. 

Jin  the  "Philosophical  Magazine"  (vol.  i.  p.  232)  will  be  found  a 
record  of  the  observations  which  finally  explained  to  the  scientific  world 
the  nature  of  the  gigantic  appearance  which,  from  the  summit  of  the 
Brocken,  (one  of  the  Hartz  Mountains,)  for  long  years  excited  the  wonder- 
ing credulity  of  the  inhabitants  and  the  astonishment  of  the  passing 
traveler.  A  Mr.  Haue  devoted  some  time  to  this  subject.  One  day,  while 
he  was  contemplating  the  giant,  a  violent  puflf  of  wind  was  on  the  point 
of  carrying  ofi'his  hat.  Suddenly  clapping  his  hand  upon  it,  the  giant  did 
the  same.  Mr.  Haue  bowed  to  him,  and  the  salute  was  returned.  He  then 
called  the  proprietor  of  the  neighboring  inn  and  imparted  to  him  his  dis- 
covery. The  experiments  were  renewed  with  the  same  effect.  It  beoime 
evident  that  the  appearance  was  but  an  optical  effect  produced  by  a  strongly 


NO  COLLECTIVE  HALLUCINATIONS.        809 

There  are  collective  illusions;  for  it  is  evident  that 
the  same  false  appearance  which  deceives  the  senses  of 
one  man  is  not  unlikely  to  deceive  those  of  others  also. 
Thus,  an  Italian  historian  relates  that  the  inhabitants 
of  the  city  of  Florence  were  for  several  hours  the  dupea 
of  a  remarkable  deception.  There  was  seen,  in  the  air, 
floating  above  the  city,  the  colossal  figure  of  an  angel; 
and  groups  of  spectators,  gathered  together  in  the 
principal  streets,  gazed  in  adoration,  convinced  that 
some  miracle  was  about  to  take  place.  After  a  time  it 
was  discovered  that  this  portentous  appearance  was  but 
a  simple  optical  illusion,  caused  by  the  reflection,  on 
a  cloud,  of  the  figure  of  the  gilded  angel  which  sur- 
mounts the  celebrated  Duomo,  brightly  illuminated  by 
the  rays  of  the  sun. 

But  I  know  of  no  well-authenticated  instance  of  col- 
lective hallucinations.  No  two  patients  that  I  ever 
heard  of  imagined  the  presence  of  the  same  cat  or  dog 
at  the  same  moment.  None  of  Nicolai's  friends  per- 
ceived the  figures  which  showed  themselves  to  him. 
When  Brutus's  evil  genius  appeared  to  the  Eoman 
leader,  no  one  but  himself  saw  the  colossal  presence  or 
heard  the  warning  words,  "  We  shall  meet  again  at 
Philippi."  It  was  Nero's  eyes  alone  that  were  haunted 
with  the  specter  of  his  murdered  mother.* 

illuminated  body  placed  amid  light  clouds,  reflected  from  a  considerable 
distance,  and  magnified  till  it  appeared  five  or  six  hundred  feet  in  height 

In  Westmoreland  and  other  mountainous  countries  the  peasants  often 
imagine  that  they  see  in  the  clouds  troops  of  cavalry  and  armies  on  the 
march, — when,  in  point  of  fact,  it  is  but  the  reflection  of  horses  pasturing 
on  a  hill-side,  and  peaceful  travelers  or  laborers  passing  over  the  land- 
scape. 

*  There  is  no  proof  that  the  appearances  which  presented  themselves  to 
■Kicolai,  to  Brutus,  and  to  Nero  were  other  than  mere  halluc'.nations;  yet. 
If  it  should  appear  that  apparitions,  whether  of  the  living  or  the  dead,  are 
Bometiine?!  of  objective  character,  we  are  assuming  too  much  when  w« 
receive  it  ae  certain  that  nothing  appeared  to  either  of  these  men. 


310  BIOLOGICAL   EXPERIMENTS. 

This  is  a  distinction  of  much  practical  importance 
If  two  persons  perceive  at  the  same  time  the  same 
phenomenon,  we  may  conclude  that  that  phenomenon 
is  an  objective  reality, — has,  in  some  phase  or  other, 
actual  existence. 

The  results  of  what  have  been  usually  called  electro- 
biological  experiments  cannot  with  any  propriety  be 
adduced  in  confutation  of  this  position.  The  biolo- 
gized patient  knowingly  and  voluntarily  subjects  him- 
self to  an  artificial  influence,  of  which  the  temporary 
effect  is  to  produce  false  sensations;  just  as  the  eater 
of  hasheesh,  or  the  chewer  of  opium,  conjures  up  the 
phantasmagoria  of  a  partial  insanity,  or  the  confirmed 
drunkard  exposes  himself  to  the  terrible  delusions  of  . 
delirium-tremens.  But  all  these  sufferers  know,  w^hen 
the  fit  has  passed,  that  there  was  nothing  of  reality  in 
the  imaginations  that  overcame  them. 

If  we  could  be  biologized  without  ostensible  agency, 
in  a  seemingly  normal  and  quiet  state  of  mind  and  body, 
unconsciously  to  ourselves  at  the  time,  and  without  any 
subsequent  conviction  of  our  trance-like  condition,  then 
would  Eeason  herself  cease  to  be  trustworthy,  our  very 
senses  become  blind  guides,  and  men  would  but  grope 
about  in  the  mists  of  Pyrrhonism.  Nothing  in  the 
economy  of  the  universe,  so  far  as  we  have  explored  it, 
allows  us  for  a  moment  to  entertain  the  idea  that  its 
Creator  has  permitted,  or  will  ever  permit,  such  a  source 
of  delusion. 

We  are  justified  in  asserting,  then,  as  a  general  rule, 
that  what  the  senses  of  two  or  more  persons  perceive 
at  the  same  time  is  not  a  hallucination;  in  other  words, 
that  there  is  some  foundation  for  it. 

But  it  does  not  follow  that  the  converse  of  the  pro- 
position is  true.  It  is  not  logical  to  conclude  that,  in 
every  instance  in  which  some  strange  appearance  can 
be  perceived  by  one  observer  only  among  many,  W  is  a 


reichenbach's  experiments.  311 

hallucination.  In  some  cases  where  certain  persons  per 
ceive  phenomena  which  escape  the  senses  of  others,  it  19 
certain  that  the  phenomena  are,  or  may  be,  real.  An 
every-day  example  of  this  is  the  fact  that  persons  en- 
dowed with  strong  power  of  distant  vision  dourly  dis- 
tinguish objects  which  are  invisible  to  the  short-sighted. 
Again,  Eeichenbach  reports  that  his  sensitives  saw,  at 
the  poles  of  the  magnet,  odic  light,  and  felt,  from  the 
near  contact  of  large  free  cystals,  odic  sensations,  which 
by  Reichenbach  himself,  and  others  as  insensible  to  odic 
impressions  as  he,  were  utterly  unperceived.*  It  is  true 
that  before  such  experiments  can  rationally  produce 
conviction  they  must  be  repeated  again  and  again,  by 
various  observers  and  with  numerous  subjects,  each 
subject  unknowing  the  testimony  of  the  preceding,  and 
the  result  of  these  various  experiments  must  be  care- 
fully collated  and  compared.  But,  these  precautions 
scrupulously  taken,  there  is  nothing  in  the  nature  of  the 
experiments  themselves  to  cause  them  to  be  set  aside  as 
untrustworthy. 

There  is  nothing,  then,  absurd  or  illogical  in  the  sup- 
position that  some  persons  may  have  true  perceptions 
of  which  we  are  unconscious.  We  may  not  be  able  to 
comprehend  how  they  receive  these ;  but  our  ignorance 
of  the  mode  of  action  does  not  disprove  the  reality  of 
the  effect.  I  know  an  English  gentleman  wh'^,  if  a  cat 
had  been  secreted  in  a  room  where  he  was,  invariably 
and  infallibly  detected  her  presence.  How. he  perceived 
this,  except  by  a  general  feeling  of  uneasiness,  he  could 
never  explain;  yet  the  fact  was  certain. 


*  Reichenbach,  in  his  "Sensitive  Men»ch"  (vol.  i.  p.  1,)  estimates  the  num- 
ber of  sensitives,  including  all  who  have  any  perception  whatever  of  odic 
sights  and  feelings,  at  nearly  one-half  the  human  race.  Cases  of  high 
sensitiveness  are,  he  says,  most  commonly  found  in  the  diseased;  some- 
times, however,  in  the  healthy.  In  both  he  considers  them  comparatively 
rart. 


312  EXCEPTIONAL    CASES    OP    PERCEPTION. 

If  we  were  all  born  deaf  and  dumb,  we  could  not 
imagine  how  a  human  being  should  be  able  to  perceive 
that  a  person  he  did  not  see  was  in  an  adjoining  room, 
or  how  he  could  possibly  become  conscious  that  a  town- 
clock,  a  mile  off  and  wholly  out  of  sight,  was  half  an 
hour  faster  than  the  watch  in  his  pocket.  If  to  a  deaf- 
mute,  congenitally  such,  we  say,  in  explanation,  that  we 
know  these  things  because  we  hear  the  sound  of  the 
person's  voice  and  of  the  clock  striking,  the  words  are 
to  him  without  significance.  They  explain  to  him 
nothing.  He  believes  that  there  is  a  perception  which 
those  around  him  call  hearing,  because  they  all  agree  in 
informing  him  of  this.  He  believes  that,  under  par- 
ticular circumstances,  they  do  become  conscious  of  the 
distant  and  the  unseen.  But,  if  his  infirmity  continue 
till  death,  he  will  pass  to  another  world  with  no  con- 
viction of  the  reality  of  hearing  save  that  belief  alone, 
unsustained  except  by  the  evidence  of  testimony. 

What  presumption  is  there  against  the  supposition 
that,  as  there  are  exceptional  cases  in  which  some  of 
our  fellow-creatures  are  inferior  to  us  in  the  range  of 
their  perceptions,  there  r^ay  be  exceptional  cases  also 
in  which  some  of  th-em  are  superior  ?  And  why  may 
not  we,  like  the  life-long  deaf-mute,  have  to  await  the 
enlightenment  of  death  before  we  can  receive  as  true, 
except  by  faith  in  others'  words,  the  allegations  touch- 
ing these  superior  perceptions  ? 

There  is,  it  is  true,  between  the  case  of  the  deaf-mute 
and  ours  this  difference:  he  is  in  the  minority,  we  in 
the  majority  :  his  witnesses,  therefore,  are  much  more 
numerous  than  ours.  But  the  question  remains,  are  our 
witnesses,  occasional  only  though  they  be,  sufficient  in 
number  and  in  credibility? 

That  question,  so  far  as  it  regards  what  are  commonly 
called  apparitions,  it  is  my  object  in  the  next  chapter  t(» 
discuss. 


EFFECT   OF    MEDICINE   ON    PEECEPTI0N8.  813 

Before  doing  so,  however,  one  or  two  remarks  touch- 
ing current  objections  may  here  be  in  place. 

It  has  usually  been  taken  for  granted  that,  if  medicine 
shall  have  removed  a  perception,  it  was  unreal.  This 
does  not  follow.  An  actual  perception  may,  for  aughi 
we  know,  depend  on  a  peculiar  state  of  the  nervous 
Bj^stem,  and  may  be  possible  during  that  state  only  :  and 
that  state  may  be  changed  or  modified  by  drugs.  Our 
senses  frequently  are,  for  a  time,  so  influenced ;  the  sense 
of  sight,  for  example,  by  belladonna.  I  found  in  England 
several  ladies,  all  in  the  most  respectable  class  of  society, 
who  have  had,  to  a  greater  or  less  extent,  the  perception 
of  apparitions;  though  they  do  not  speak  of  this  faculty 
or  delusion  (let  the  reader  select  either  term)  beyond 
the  circle  of  their  immediate  friends.  One  of  these 
ladies,  in  whose  case  the  perception  has  existed  from 
early  infancy,  informed  me  that  it  was  suspended  by  in- 
disposition, even  by  a  severe  cold.  In  this  case,  any 
medicine  which  removed  the  disease  restored  the  per- 
ception. 

Some  writers  have  attempted  to  show  that  hallucina- 
tion is  epidemical,  like  the  plague  or  the  small-pox.  If 
this  be  true  at  all,  it  is  to  an  extent  so  trifling  and  under 
circumstances  so  peculiar  that  it  can  only  be  regarded 
as  a  rare  exception  to  a  general  rule.*     De  Gasparin 

*  I  find  in  De  Boismont's  elaborate  work  on  Hallucinations  but  a  single 
example  detailed  of  whj>*.  maybe  regarded  as  a  collective  hallucination, 
and  that  given  (p.  72)  on  the  authority  of  Bovet,  and  taken  from  his 
"Pandemonium,  or  The  Devil's  C^oy»rer,"  published  in  1684,  (p.  202;)  not 
the  most  conclusive  evidence,  certainly.  It  is,  besides,  but  the  case  of  two 
men  alleged  to  have  seen,  at  the  same  time,  the  same  apparition  of  certain 
richly-dressed  ladies.  But  one  of  these  men  was  at  the  time  in  a  stupor, 
apparently  euflFering  from  nightmare,  and  did  not  speak  of  the  vision  at  all 
until  it  was  suggested  to  him  by  the  other.  We  know,  however,  that  sug- 
gestions made  to  a  sleeping  man  sometimes  influence  his  dreams.  (See 
Abercrombie's  "  Tntellcrtual  Powers,"  15th  ed..  London,  1857,  pp.  202.  20.3.) 
A  case  cited  and  vouched  for  by  Dr.  Wigan  ("  Duaiittf  of  the  Jfinrf"  Lon- 


814  IS   THERE   EVIDENCE 

seeks  to  prove  the  contrary  of  this*  by  reminding  us 
that  in  Egypt,  in  the  time  of  Justinian,  all  the  world  is 
said  to  have  seen  black  men  without  heads  sailing  in 
brazen  barks;  that  during  an  epidemic  that  once  de- 
populated Constantinople  the  inhabitants  saw  demons 
passing  along  the  streets  from  house  to  house,  dealing 
death  as  they  passed;  that  Thucydides  speaks  of  a 
general  invasion  of  specters  which  accompanied  th© 
great  plague  at  Athens ;  that  Pliny  relates  how,  during 
the  war  of  the  Eomans  against  the  Cimbrians,  the  clash 
of  arms  and  the  sound  of  trumpets  were  heard,  as  if 
coming  from  the  sky ;  that  Pausanias  writes  that,  long 
after  the  action  at  Marathon,  there  were  heard  each 
night  on  the  field  of  battle  the  neighing  of  horses  and 
the  shock  of  armies;  that  at  the  battle  of  Platsea  the 
heavens  resounded  with  fearful  cries,  ascribed  by  the 
Athenians  to  the  god  Pan ;  and  so  on. 

Of  these  appearances  some  were  clearly  illusions,  not 
hallucinations ;  and  as  to  the  rest,  M.  de  Gasparin  is  too 
sensible  a  writer  not  to  admit  that  "many  of  these 
anecdotes  are  false  and  many  are  exaggerated/'f  For 
myself,  it  would  be  almost  as  easy  to  convince  me,  on 
the  faith  of  a  remote  legend,  that  these  marvelous 
sights  and  sounds  had  actually  existed,  as  that  large 
numbers  of  men  concurred  in  the  conviction  that  they 

don,  1844,  pp.  166  et  seq.)  does  not  prove  that  hallucination  may  bo  of  » 
collective  character,  though  sometimes  adduced  t   prove  it. 

Writers  who  believe  in  second-sight  (as  Martin,  in  his  "  Description  of 
the  Western  Islands  of  Scotland")  allege  that  if  two  men,  gifted  with  that 
faculty,  be  standing  together,  and  one  of  them,  perceiving  a  vision,  design- 
edly touch  the  other,  he  also  will  perceive  it  But  we  have  no  better  evi  - 
dence  for  this  than  for  the  reality  of  the  faculty  in  question.  And  if  second- 
eight  be  a  real  phenomenon,  then  such  seers  are  not  deceived  by  a  hallu- 
cination. 

♦  "  Des  Tables  Toumantes,  du  Surnaturel  en  Gin4ral,  et  des  Esprit*,"  paj 
le  Comte  Ag6nor  de  Gasparin,  Paris,  1855,  vol.  i.  pp.  537  et  seq. 

f  De  Gasparin's  work  already  cited,  vol.  i.  p.  538. 


FOR   EPIDEMICAL   HALLUCIW ATIOICS  ?  81& 

8UW  and  heard  them.  The  very  details  whica  accom- 
pany many  of  them  suffice  to  discredit  the  idea  they  are 
adduced  to  prove.  In  the  relation  of  Pausanias,  for 
example,  touching  the  nightly  noises  on  the  battle-field 
.of  Marathon,  we  read  that  those  who  were  attracted  to 
the  spot  by  curiosity  heard  them  not :  it  was  to  the 
chance  traveler  only,  crossing  the  haunted  spot  without 
])remeditation,  that  the  phantom  horses  neighed  and 
the  din  of  arms  resounded.  Imagination  or  expectation, 
it  would  seem,  had  nothing  to  do  with  it.  It  was  a 
local  phenomenon.  Can  we  believe  it  to  have  been  a 
perversion  of  the  sense  of  hearing  ?  If  we  do,  we 
admit  that  hallucination  may  be  endemic  as  well  as 
epidemic. 

I  would  not  be  understood  as  denying  that  there  have 
been  times  and  seasons  during  which  instances  of  hallu- 
cination have  increased  in  frequency  beyond  the  usual 
rate.  That  which  violently  excites  the  mind  often  re- 
acts morbidly  on  the  senses.  But  this  does  not  prove 
the  position  I  am  combating.  The  reaction  consequent 
upon  the  failure  of  the  first  French  Revolution,  together 
with  the  hoiTors  of  the  reign  of  terror,  so  agitated  and 
depressed  the  minds  of  many,  that  in  France  suicides 
became  frequent  beyond  all  previous  example.  Yet  it 
would  be  a  novel  doctrine  to  assert  that  suicide  is  of  a 
contagious  or  epidemical  character. 

De  Boismont  reminds  us  that  considerable  assemblages 
of  men  ("  des  reun  ions  considerables' ')  have  been  the  dupes 
of  the  same  illusions.  "  A  cry,"  he  says, "  suffices  to  aflFright 
a  multitude.  An  individual  who  thinks  he  sees  some- 
thing supernatural  soon  causes  others,  as  little  en- 
lightened as  he,  to  share  his  conviction."*  As  to  illu- 
siuiiSj  both  optical  and  oral,  this  is  undoubtedly  true; 
moro  especially  when  these  present  themselves  in  times 


♦  "  Dm  HalUtciTuxtiont,"  p.  128. 


vS16  THE   FANCIFUL   AND   THE   REAL. 

of  excitement, — as  during  a  battle  or  a  plague, — or  when 
they  are  generated  in  twilight  gloom  or  midnight  dark 
ness.  But  that  the  contagion  of  example,  or  the  belief 
of  one  individual  under  the  actual  influence  of  halluci- 
nation, suffices  to  produce,  in  others  around,  disease  of 
the  retina  or  of  the  optic  or  auditory  nerve,  or,  in 
short,  any  abnormal  condition  of  the  senses,  is  a  suppo- 
sition which,  so  far  as  my  reading  extends,  is  unsup- 
ported by  any  reliable  proof  whatever. 

The  hypothesis  of  hallucination,  then,  is,  in  a  general 
way,  untenable  in  cases  where  two  or  more  independent 
observers  perceive  the  same  or  a  similar  appearance. 
But,  since  we  know  that  hallucination  does  occur,  that 
hypothesis  may,  in  cases  where  there  is  but  a  single 
observer,  be  regarded  as  the  more  natural  one,  to  be 
rebutted  only  by  such  attendant  circumstances  as  are 
not  explicable  except  by  supposing  the  appearance  real. 

Bearing  with  us  these  considerations,  let  us  now 
endeavor  to  separate,  in  this  matter,  the  fanciful  from 
the  real.  In  so  doing,  we  may  find  it  difficult  to  pre- 
serve the  just  mean  between  too  ready  admission  and 
too  strenuous  unbelief.  If  the  reader  be  tempted  to  sus- 
pect in  me  easy  credulity,  let  him  beware  on  his  part  of 
arrogant  prejudgment.  "  Contempt  before  inquiry," 
says  Paley,  "  is  fatal.^'  Discarding  alike  prejudice  and 
superstition,  adopting  the  inductive  method,  let  us  seek 
to  determine  whether,  even  if  a  large  portion  of  the 
thousand  legends  of  ghosts  and  apparitions  that  have 
won  credence  in  every  age  be  due  to  hallucination, 
there  be  not  another  portion — the  records  of  genuine 
phenomena — observed  by  credible  witnesses  and  attested 
by  sufficient  proof. 


CHAPTEE  II. 

APPARITIONS   OF   THE   LIVING. 

When,  in  studying  the  subject  of  apparitions,  I  first 
met  an  alleged  example  of  the  appearance  of  a  living  per- 
son at  a  distance  from  where  that  person  actually  was, 
I  gave  to  it  little  weight.  And  this  the  rather  because 
the  example  itself  was  not  sufficiently  attested.  It  is 
related  and  believed  by  Jung  Stilling  as  having  occurred 
about  the  years  1750  to  1760,  and  is  to  this  effect. 

There  lived  at  that  time,  near  Philadelphia,  in  a 
lonely  house  and  in  a  retired  manner,  a  man  of  benevo- 
lent and  pious  character,  but  suspected  to  have  some 
occult  power  of  disclosing  hidden  events.  It  happened 
that  a  certain  sea-captain  having  been  long  absent  and 
no  letter  received  from  him,  his  wife,  who  lived  near 
this  man,  and  who  had  become  alarmed  and  anxious, 
was  advised  to  consult  him.  Having  heard  her  story, 
he  bade  her  wait  a  little  and  he  would  bring  her  an 
answer.  Thereupon  he  went  into  another  room,  shut- 
ting the  door;  and  there  he  stayed  so  long  that,  moved 
by  curiosity,  she  looked  through  an  aperture  in  the 
door  to  ascertain  what  he  w^s  about.  Seeing  him  lying 
motionless  on  a  sofa,  she  quickly  returned  to  her  place. 
Soon  after,  he  came  out,  and  told  the  woman  that  her 
husband  was  at  that  time  in  London,  in  a  certain  coffee- 
house which  he  named,  and  that  he  would  soon  return. 
He  also  stated  the  reasons  why  his  return  had  been  de- 
layed and  why  he  had  not  written  to  her ;  and  she  went 
heme  somewhat  reassured.  When  her  husband  did  re* 
turn,  they  found,  on  comparing  notes,  that  every  thing 
27*  317 


318  stilling's  story. 

she  had  been  told  was  exactly  true.  But  the  strangest 
part  of  the  story  remains.  When  she  took  her  husband 
to  see  the  alleged  seer,  he  started  back  in  surprise,  and 
afterward  confessed  to  his  wife  that,  on  a  certain  day, 
(the  same  on  which  she  had  consulted  the  person  in 
question,)  he  was  in  a  coffee-house  in  London,  (the  same 
that  had  been  named  to  her,)  and  that  this  very  man  had 
there  accosted  him,  and  had  told  him  that  his  wife  was 
in  great  anxiety  about  him ;  that  then  the  sea-captain 
had  replied  informing  the  stranger  why  his  return  waa 
delayed  and  why  he  had  not  written,  whereupon  the 
man  turned  away,  and  he  lost  sight  of  him  in  the 
crowd.* 

This  story,  however,  came  to  Stilling  through  severa^' 
hands,  and  is  very  loosely  authenticated.  It  was  brought 
from  America  by  a  German  who  had  emigrated  to  the 
United  States,  and  had  been  many  years  manager  of 
some  mills  on  the  Delaware.  He  related  it,  on  his  re- 
turn to  Germany,  to  a  friend  of  Stilling's,  from  whom 
Stilling  had  it.  But  no  names  nor  exact  dates  are  given ; 
and  it  is  not  even  stated  whether  the  German  emigrant 
obtained  the  incident  directly  either  from  the  sea-captain 
or  his  wife. 

It  is  evident  that  such  a  narrative,  coming  to  us  with 
no  better"  vouchers  than  these,  (though  we  may  admit 
Stilling's  entire  good  faith,)  cannot  rationally  be  accepted 
as  authority. 

Yet  it  is  to  be  remarked  that,  in  its  incidents,  the 
above  story  is  but  little  more  remarkable  than  the 
Joseph  Wilkins  dream  or  the  case  of  Mary  Goffe,  both 
already  given  in  the  chapter  on  Dreams.  If  true,  it  evi- 
dently belongs  to  the  same  class,  with  this  variation : 
that  the  phenomena  in  the  two  cases  referred  to  occurred 
spontaneously,  whereas,  according  to  the  Stilling  narra- 

*  "  Theorie  der  Geisterkunde,"  vol.  iv.  of  Stilling's  "  S'dmmtlkh*  W0rk«/* 
pp.  501  to  503.     I  have  somewhat  abridged  in  translating  it. 


APPARITION    IN    IRELAND.  819 

tive,  they  were  called  up  by  the  will  of  the  subject  and 
could  be  reproduced  at  pleasure. 

The  next  narrative  I  am  enabled  to  give  as  perfectly 

authentic. 

APPARITION  IN  IRELAND. 

There  was  living,  in  the  summer  of  the  year  1802,  in 
the  south  of  Ireland,  a  clergyman  of  the  Established 

Church,  the  Eev.  Mr. ,  afterward  Archdeacon  of 

,  now  deceased.     His  first  wife,  a  woman  of  great 

beauty,  sister  of  the  Governor  of ,  was  then  alive. 

She  had  been  recently  confined,  and  her  recovery  was 
very  slow.  Their  residence — an  old-fashioned  mansion, 
situated  in  a  spacious  garden — adjoined  on  one  side  the 

park  of  the  Bishop  of .     It  was  separated  from  it 

by  a  wall,  in  which  there  was  a  private  door. 

Mr. had  been  invited  by  the  bishop  to  dinner; 

and  as  his  wife,  though  confined  to  bed,  did  not  seem 
worse  than  usual,  he  had  accepted  the  invitation.  Re- 
turning from  the  bishop's  palace  about  ten  o'clock,  ho 
entered,  by  the  private  door  ah-eady  mentioned,  his  own 
premises.  It  was  bright  moonlight.  On  issuing  from  a 
small  belt  of  shrubbery  into  a  garden  walk,  he  per- 
ceived, as  he  thought,  in  another  walk,  parallel  to  that 
in  which  he  was,  and  not  more  than  ten  or  twelve  feet 
from  him,  the  figiire  of  his  wife,  in  her  usual  dress.  Ex- 
ceedingly astonished,  he  crossed  over  and  confronted  her. 
It  was  his  wife.  At  least,  he  distinguished  her  features, 
in  the  clear  moonlight,  as  plainly  as  he  had  ever  done  in 
bis  life.  "  What  are  you  doing  here  ?"  he  asked.  She 
did  not  reply,  but  receded  from  him,  turning  to  the 
right,  toward  a  kitchen-garden  that  lay  on  one  side  of 
the  house.  In  it  there  were  several  rows  of  peas,  staked 
and  well  grown,  so  as  to  shelter  any  person  passing  be- 
hind them.  The  figure  passed  round  one  end  of  these. 
Mr. followed  quickly,  in   increased   astonishment, 


820  THE  son's  testimony. 

mingled  with  alarm;  but  Avhen  he  reached  the  open 
space  beyond  the  peas  the  figure  was  nowhere  to  be 
seen.  As  there  was  no  spot  where,  in  so  short  a  time, 
it  could  have  sought  concealment,  the  husband  con- 
cluded that  it  was  an  apparition,  and  not  his  wife,  that 
he  had  seen.  He  returned  to  the  front  door,  and,  in- 
stead of  availing  himself  of  his  pass-key  as  usual,  he 
rung  the  bell.  While  on  the  steps,  before  the  bell  was 
answered,  looking  round,  he  saw  the  same  figure  at  the 
corner  of  the  house.  When  the  servant  opened  the  door, 
he  asked  him  how  his  mistress  was.  '^  I  am  sorry  to 
say,  sir,''  answered  the  man,  ^'  she  is  not  so  well.     Dr 

Osborne  has  been  sent  for.''    Mr. hurried  up-stairs, 

found  his  wife  in  bed  and  much  worse,  attended  by  the 
nurse,  who  had  not  left  her  all  the  evening.  From  that 
time  she  gradually  sank,  and  within  twelve  hours  there- 
after expired. 

The  above  was  communicated  to  me  by  Mr. ,  now 

of  Canada,  son  of  the  archdeacon.*  Ho  had  so  often 
heard  his  father  narrate  the  incident  that  every  par- 
ticular was  minutely  imprinted  on  his  memory.  I  in- 
quired of  him  if  his  father  had  ever  stated  to  him  whe- 
ther, during  his  absence  at  the  bishop's,  his  wife  had 
slept,  or  had  been  observed  to  be  in  a  state  of  swoon  or 
trance ;  but  he  could  afford  me  no  information  on  that 
subject.  It  is  to  be  regretted  that  this  had  not  been 
observed  and  recorded.  The  wife  knew  where  her  hus- 
band was  and  by  what  route  he  would  return.  We  may 
imagine,  but  cannot  prove,  that  this  was  a  case  similar 
to  that  of  Mary  Goffo, — the  appearance  of  the  wife,  as 
of  the  mother,  showing  itself  where  her  thoughts  and 
affections  were. 

The  following  narrative  1  owe  to  the  kindness  of  a 

*  On  the  1st  of  June,  1859. 


TWO    APPAEITIONS   OF   THE   LIVING.  321 

friend,  Mrs.  D ,  now  of  "Washington,  the  daughter 

of  a  Western  clergyman  of  well-known  reputation,  re- 
cently deceased. 

TWO    APPARITIONS    OP    LIVING    PERSONS,    IN    THE    SAMB 
HOUSE,  ON  THE  SAME  DAY. 

"  I  resided  for  several  years  in  a  spacious  old  stone 
house,  two  stories  high,  agreeably  situated,  amid  fruit- 
trees  and  shrubbery,  on  the  banks  of  the  Ohio  Eiver, 
in  Switzerland  County,  Indiana.  Two  verandas, 
above  and  below,  with  outside  stairs  leading  up  to 
them,  ran  the  entire  length  of  the  house  on  the  side 
next  the  river.  These,  especially  the  upper  one  with 
its  charming  prospect,  were  a  common  resort  of  the 
family. 

^'  On  the  15th  of  September,  1845,  my  younger  sister, 

J ,  was  married,  and  came  with  her  husband,  Mr. 

H M ,  to  pass  a  portion  of  the  honeymoon  in 

our  pleasant  retreat. 

"On  the  18th  of  the  same  month,  we  all  went,  by 
invitation,  to  spend  the  day  at  a  friend's  house  about  a 
mile  distant.  As  twilight  came  on,  finding  my  two 
little  ones  growing  restless,  we  decided  to  return  home. 
After  waiting  some  time  for  ray  sister's  husband,  who 
had  gone  off  to  pay  a  visit  in  a  neighboring  village, 
saying  he  would  soon  return,  we  set  out  without  him. 
Arrived  at  home,  my  sister,  who  occupied  an  upper 
room,  telling  me  she  would  go  and  change  her  walking- 
dress,  proceeded  up-stairs,  while  I  remained  below  to 
see  my  drowsy  babes  safe  in  bed.  The  moon,  I  remem- 
ber, was  shining  brightly  at  the  time. 

"  Suddenly,  after  a  minute  or  two,  my  sister  burst 
into  the  room,  wringing  her  hands  in  despair,  and 
weeping  bitterly.  *0h,  sister,  sister"  she  exclaimed; 
'  I  shall  lose  him !  I  know  I  shall !  Hugh  is  going  to  die.* 
In  the  greatest  astonishment,  I  inquired  what  was  tha 


S22  THE  bride's  terror. 

matter;  and  then,  between  Bobs,  she  related  to  me  tho 
caiise  of  her  alarm,  as  follows  : — 

"As  she  ra,n  up-stairs  to  their  room  she  saw  her  hus- 
band seated  at  the  extremity  of  the  upper  veranda, 
his  hat  on,  a  cigar  in  his  mouth,  and  his  feet  on  the 
railing,  apparently  enjoying  the  cool  river-breeze. 
Supposing,  of  course,  that  he  had  returned  before  we 
did;  she  approached  him,  saying,  'Why,  Hugh,  when 
did  you  get  here?  Why  did  you  not  return  and  come 
home  with  us?'  As  he  made  no  reply,  she  went  up  to 
him,  and,  bride-like,  was  about  to  put  her  arms  round 
his  neck,  when,  to  her  horror,  the  figure  was  gone  and 
the  chair  empty.  She  had  barely  strength  left  (so 
great  was  the  shock)  to  come  down-stairs  and  relate  to 
me  what  her  excited  fears  construed  into  a  certain  pre- 
sage of  death. 

"It  was  not  till  more  than  two  hours  afterward, 
when  my  brother-in-law  actually  returned,  that  she  re- 
sumed her  tranquillity.  We  rallied  and  laughed  at  her 
then,  and,  after  a  time,  the  incident  passed  from  our 
minds. 

"Previously  to  this,  however, — namely,  about  an  hour 
before  Hugh's  return, — while  we  were  sitting  in  the 
parlor,  on  the  lower  floor,  I  saw  a  boy,  some  sixteen 
years  of  age,  look  in  at  the  door  of  the  room.  It  was 
a  lad  whom  my  husband  employed  lo  work  in  the 
garden  and  about  the  house,  and  who,  in  his  leisure 
hours,  used  to  take  great  delight  in  amusing  my  little 
son  Frank,  of  whom  he  was  very  fond.  He  was 
dressed,  as  was  his  wont,  in  a  suit  of  blue  summer- 
cloth,  with  an  old  palm-leaf  hat  without  a  band,  and  he 
advanced,  in  his  usual  bashful  way,  a  step  or  two  into 
the  room,  then  stopped,  and  looked  round,  apparently  in 
search  of  something.  Supposing  that  he  was  looking 
for  the  children,. I  said  to  him,  'Frank  is  in  bed,  Silas, 
and  asleep  long  ago.'     He  did  not  roply,  but,  tu inning 


SILAS.  S28 

frith  a  qniet  smile  that  was  common  to  nim,  left  the 
room,  and  I  noticed,  from  the  window,  that  he  lingered 
near  the  outside  door,  walking  backward  and  forward 
before  it  once  or  twice.  If  I  had  afterward  been  re- 
quired to  depose,  on  oath,  before  a  court  of  justice,  that 
I  had  seen  the  boy  enter  and  leave  the  room,  and  also 
that  I  had  noticed  him  pass  and  repass  before  the  parlor- 
trindow,  I  should  have  sworn  to  these  circumstances 
without  a  moment's  hesitation.  Yet  it  would  seem  that 
such  a  deposition  would  have  conveyed  a  false  im- 
pression. 

"  For,  shortly  after,  my  husband,  coming  in,  said,  *I 
wonder  where  Silas  is?'  (that  was  the  boy's  name.) 

"  '  He  must  be  somewhere  about,'  1  replied :  ^  he  was 
here  a  few  minutes  since,  and  I  spoke  to  him.'  There- 
upon Mr.  D went  out  and  called  him,  but  no  one 

answered.  He  sought  him  all  over  the  premises,  then 
in  his  room,  but  in  vain.  No  Silas  was  to  be  found ; 
nor  did  he  show  himself  that  night;  nor  was  he  in  the 
house  the  next  morning  when  we  arose. 

"At  breakfast  he  first  made  his  appearance.  *  Where 
have  you  been,  Silas?'  said  Mr.  D . 

"  The  boy  replied  that  he  had  been  '  up  to  the  island, 
fishing.' 

"  *  But,'  I  said,  ^  you  were  here  last  night.' 

*''0h,  no,'  he  replied,  with  the  simple  accent  of  truth. 

<  Mr.  D gave  me  leave  to  go  fishing  yesterday;  and 

I  understood  I  need  not  return  till  this  morning :  so  I 
stayed  away  all  night.  I  have  not  been  near  here  since 
yesterday  morning.' 

"  I  could  not  doubt  the  lad's  word.  He  had  no 
motive  for  deceiving  up.  The  island  of  which  he  spoke 
was  two  miles  distant  from  our  house;  and,  under  all 
the  circumstances,  I  settled  down  to  the  conclusion 
that  as,  in  ray  sister's  case,  her  husband  had  appeared 
where  he   was  not,  so  in  the  case  of  the  boy  also  it 


3*J4     SUGGESTION  AS  TO  RULES  OP  EVIDENCE. 

was  the  appearance  only,  not  the  real  person,  that  I 
had  seen  that  evening.  It  was  remarkable  enough 
that  both  the  incidents  should  have  occurred  in  the 
same  house  and  on  the  same  day. 

"It  is  proper  I  should  add  that  my  sister's  im- 
pression that  the  apparition  of  her  husband  foreboded 
death  did  not  prove  true.  He  outlived  her;  and  no 
misfortune  which  they  could  in  any  way  connect  with 
the  appearance  happened  in  the  family. 

*'  Nor  did  Silas  die;  nor,  so  far  as  I  know,  did  any 
thing  unusual  happen  to  him.'^* 

This  case  is,  in  some  respects,  a  strong  one.  There 
was  evidently  no  connection  between  the  appearance  to 
the  one  sister  and  that  to  the  other.  There  was  no  ex- 
citement preceding  the  apparitions.  In  each  case,  the 
evidence,  so  far  as  one  sense  went,  was  as  strong  as  if 
the  real  person  had  been  present.  The  narrator  ex- 
pressly says  she  would  unhesitatingly  have  sworn,  in  a 
court  of  justice,  to  the  presence  of  the  boy  Silas.  The 
sister  addressed  the  appearance  of  her  husband,  unex- 
pected as  it  was,  without  doubt  or  hesitation.  The 
theory  of  hallucination  may  account  for  both  cases;  but, 
whether  it  does  or  not,  the  phenomenon  is  one  which 
ought  to  challenge  the  attention  of  the  jurist  as  well  as 
of  the  psychologist.  If  appearances  so  exactly  counter- 
feiting reality  as  these  can,  occasionally,  cheat  human 
sense,  their  possible  occurrence  ought  not  to  be  ignored 
jn  laying  down  rules  of  evidence.  The  presumption,  of 
course,  is,  in  every  case,  very  strongly  against  them. 
Yet  cases  have  occurred  in  which  an  alihij  satisfactorily 
proved  yet  conflicting  with  seemingly  unimpeachable 
evidence,  has  completely  puzzled  the  courts.  An  ex- 
ample, related  and  vouched  for  by  Mrs.  Crowe,  but  witn- 

*  Communicated  to  me,  in  Washington,  June  24,  1859 


THE    surgeon's   ASSISTANT  825 

out  adducing  her  authority,  and  which  I  have  not  myself 
verified,  is,  in  substance,  as  follows: — 

In  the  latter  part  of  the  last  century,  in  the  city  of 
Glasgow,  Scotland,  a  servant-girl,  known  to  have  haa 
illicit  connection  with  a  certain  surgeon's  apprentice^ 
suddenly  disappeared.  There  being  no  circumstances 
leading  to  suspicion  of  foul  play,  no  special  inquiry  was 
made  about  her. 

In  those  days,  in  Scottish  towns,  no  one  was  allowed 
to  show  himself  in  street  or  public  ground  during  the 
hours  of  church-service ;  and  this  interdiction  was  en- 
forced by  the  appointment  of  inspectors,  authorized  to 
take  down  the  names  of  delinquents. 

Two  of  these,  making  their  rounds,  came  to  a  wall, 
the  lower  boundary  of  "The  Green,"  as  the  chief  public 
park  of  the  city  is  called.  There,  lying  on  the  grass, 
they  saw  a  young  man,  whom  they  recognized  as  the 
surgeon's  assistant.  They  asked  him  why  he  was  not 
at  church,  and  proceeded  to  register  his  name;  but,  in- 
stead of  attempting  an  excuse,  he  merely  rose,  saying, 
♦<I  am  a  miserable  man;  look  in  the  water!"  then 
crossed  a  style  and  struck  into  a  path  leading  to  the 
Rutherglen  road.  The  inspectors,  astonished,  did  pro- 
ceed to  the  river,  where  they  found  the  body  of  a  young 
woman,  which  they  caused  to  be  conveyed  to  town. 
While  they  were  accompanying  it  through  the  streets, 
they  passed  one  of  the  principal  churches,  whence,  at 
the  moment,  the  congregation  were  issuing;  and  among 
them  they  perceived  the  apprentice.  But  this  did  not 
much  surprise  them,  thinking  he  might  have  had  time 
to  go  round  and  enter  the  church  toward  the  close  of 
the  service. 

The  body  proved  to  be  that  of  the  missing  servant- 
girl.  She  was  found  pregnant,  and  had  evidently  been 
murdered  by  means  of  a  surgeon's  instrument,  which 
had  remained  entangled  in  her  clothes     The  apprentice, 


32(5  jUf   APPAatlTION  PSBCETinED 

who  proved  to  have  been  the  last  person  seen  in  her 
company  before  she  disappeared,  was  arrested,  and 
would,  on  the  evidence  of  the  inspectors,  have  been 
found  guilty,  had  he  not,  on  his  trial,  established  an  in- 
controvertible alibi;  showing,  beyond  possible  doubt, 
that  he  had  been  in  church  during  the  entire  service. 
The  young  man  was  acquitted.  The  greatest  excitement 
prevailed  in  the  public  mind  at  the  time;  but  all  efforts 
to  obtain  a  natural  explanation  failed.* 

If  this  story  can  be  trusted,  it  is  conclusive  of  the 
question.  Both  inspectors  saw,  or  believed  they  saw, 
the  same  person;  a  person  of  whom  they  were  not  in 
search  and  whom  they  did  not  expect  to  find  there.  Both 
heard  the  same  words;  and  these  words  directed  them 
to  the  river,  and  were  the  cause  of  their  finding  the 
dead  body;  the  body,  too,  of  a  girl  with  whom  the  ap- 
prentice had  been  on  the  most  intimate  and  suspicious 
terms,  whether  he  was  her  murderer  or  not.  When  did 
hallucination  lead  to  such  a  discovery  as  that  ? 

In  the  next  case,  if  it  be  one  of  hallucination,  two 
senses  were  deceived. 

SIGHT  AND   SOUND. 

During  the  winter  of  1839-40,  Dr.  J E was 

residing,  with  his  aunt  Mrs.  L ,  in  a  house  on  Four- 
teenth Street,  near  New  York  Avenue,  in  the  city  of 
Washington. 

Ascending  one  day  from  the  basement  of  the  house 
to  the  parlor,  he  saw  his  aunt  descending  the  stairs. 
He  stepped  back  to  let  her  pass,  which  she  did,  close  to 
him,  but  without  speaking.  He  instantly  ascended  the 
stairs  and  entered  the  parlor,  where  he  found  his  aunt 
sitting  quietly  by  the  side  of  the  fire. 

*  "Sight  Side  of  Katmre,"  by  Catherine  Crowe,  16th  ed.,  London,  1864* 
H>-  183  to  186. 


BY    TWO    SENSES.  827 

The  distance  from  where  he  first  saw  the  figure  to  the 
spot  where  his  aunt  was  actually  sitting  was  between 
thirty  and  forty  feet.  The  figure  seemed  dressed  exactly 
as  his  aunt  was;  and  he  distinctly  heard  the  rustle  of 
her  dress  as  she  passed. 

As  the  figure,  when  descending  the  stairs  and  passing 
j)f  E ,  bore  the  very  same  appearance  as  a  real  per- 
son, and  as  the  circumstance  occurred  in  broad  daylight, 
Dr.  E long  thought  that,  if  not  a  mere  hallucina- 
tion, it  might  augur  death;  but  nothing  happened  to 
justify  his  anticipations.* 

The  next  example  is  of  a  much  more  conclusive  cha- 
racter than  any  of  the  foregoing,  if  we  except  the  nar- 
rative of  Mrs.  Crowe. 

APPARITION  OF  THE  LIVING, 

Seen  by  Mother  and  Daughter. 

In  the  month  of  May  and  in  the  year  1840,  Dr.  D , 

a  noted  physician  of  Washington,  was  residing  with  his 

wife  and  his  daughter  Sarah  (now  Mrs.  B )  at  their 

country-seat,  near  Piney  Point,  in  Virginia,  a  fashionable 
pleasure-resort  during  the  summer  months. 

One  afternoon,  about  five  o'clock,  the  two  ladies  were 
walking  out  in  a  copse- wood  not  far  from  their  residence; 
when,  at  a  distance  on  the  road,  coming  toward  them, 

they  saw  a  gentleman.    "  Sally,"  said  Mrs.  D ,  "  there 

comes  your  father  to  meet  us."  "I  think  not,"  the 
daughter  replied:  "that  cannot  be  papa:  it  is  not  so 
tall  as  he." 

As  he  neared  them,  the  daughter's  opinion  was  con- 
firmed.    They,  perceived  that  it  was  not  Dr.  D ,  but 

a  Mr.  Thompson,  a  gentleman  with  whom  they  were  well 

♦  The  above  was  related  to  me  by  Dr.  E himself,  in  Washington,  OD 

the  5th  of  July,  1859;  and  the  MS.  was  submitted  to  him  for  reriaion. 


828  APPARITION    SEEN    SIMULTANEOUSLY 

acquainted,  and  who  was  at  that  time,  though  they  then 

knew  it  not,  a  patient  of  Dr.  D 's.     They  observed 

also,  as  he  came  nearer,  that  he  was  dressed  in  a  blue 
frock-coat,  black  satin  waistcoat,  and  black  pantaloons 
and  hat.  Also,  on  comparing  notes  afterward,  both 
ladies,  it  appeared,  had  noticed  that  his  linen  was  par- 
ticularly fine  and  that  his  whole  apparel  seemed  to  have 
been  very  carefully  adjusted. 

He  came  up  so  close  that  they  were  on  the  very  point 
of  addressing  him;  but  at  that  moment  he  stepped 
aside,  as  if  to  let  them  pass;  and  then,  even  while  the 
eyes  of  both  the  ladies  were  upon  him,  he  suddenly  and  en- 
tirely disappeared. 

The  astonishment  of  Mrs.  D and  her  daughter 

may  be  imagined.  They  could  scarcely  believe  the  evi- 
dence of  their  own  eyes.  They  lingered,  for  a  time,  on 
the  spot,  as  if  expecting  to  see  him  reappear;  then,  with 
that  strange  feeling  which  comes  over  us  when  we  have 
just  witnessed  something  unexampled  and  incredible, 
they  hastened  home. 

They  afterward  ascertained,  through  Dr.  D ,  that 

his  patient  Mr.  Thompson,  being  seriously  indisposed, 
was  confined  to  his  bed;  and  that  he  had  not  quitted  his 
room,  nor  indeed  his  bed,  throughout  the  entire  day. 

It  may  properly  be  added  that,  though  Mr.  Thompson 
was  familiarly  known  to  the  ladies  and  much  respected 
by  them  as  an  estimable  man,  there  were  no  reasons 
existing  why  they  should  take  any  more  interest  in  him, 
or  he  in  them,  than  in  the  case  of  any  other  friend  or 
acquaintance.  He  died  just  six  weeks  from  the  day  of 
this  appearance. 

The  above  narrative  is  of  unquestionable  authenticity. 
It  was  communicated  in  Washington,  in  June,  1859,  by 

Mrs.  D herself;  and  the  manuscript,  being  submitted 

to  her  for  revision,  was  assented  to  as  accurate.  It 
had  been  frequently  related,  both  by  mother  and  daugh- 


BY  MOTHER  AND  DAUGHTER.  S20 

ter,  to  the  lady — a  friend  of  theirs — who  first  brought  it 
to  my  notice. 

What  shall  we  say  to  it  ?  What  element  of  authenti- 
city does  it  lack  ?  The  facts  are  of  comparatively  re- 
cent occurrence.  They  are  reported  directly  by  the 
observers  of  the  phenomenon.  The  circumstances  pre- 
clude even  the  hypothesis  of  suggestion.  The  mother's 
lemark  to  the  daughter  was,  "  There  comes  your 
father."  The  daughter  dissents,  remarking  that  it  was 
a  shorter  man.  When  the  appearance  approaches,  both 
ladies  distinguish  the  same  person,  and  that  so  unmis- 
takably that  they  advance  to  meet  him  and  speak  to 
him,  without  the  least  mistrust.  It  was  evidently  an 
appearance  seen  independently  by  both  the  observers. 

It  was  seen,  too,  in  broad  daylight,  and  under  no  ex- 
citement whatever.  The  ladies  were  enjoying  a  quiet 
afternoon's  walk.  There  was  no  terror  to  blind,  no 
anxiety  of  affection  to  conjure  up  (as  skepticism  might 
imagine  it  can)  the  phantom  of  the  absent.  The  incident 
is  (as  they  suppose)  of  the  most  commonplace  character. 
The  gentleman  whom  they  see  advancing  to  meet  them  is 
an  ordinary  acquaintance, — ill  at  the  time,  it  is  true ;  but 
even  that  fact  is  unknown  to  them.  They  both  con- 
tinue to  see  him  until  he  is  within  speaking-distance. 
Both  observe  his  dress,  even  the  minute  particulars  of 
it;  so  that  on  the  senses  of  both  precisely  the  same 
series  of  impressions  is  produced.  They  ascertain  this 
by  a  subsequent  comparison  of  their  sensations. 

Nor  do  they  lose  sight  of  him  in  any  doubtful  way, 
or  while  their  attention  is  distracted.  He  disappears 
before  their  eyes  at  the  very  moment  thej'^  are  about  to 
address  him. 

How  strong  in  this  case  is  the  presumptive  evidence 
against  hallucination !  Even  setting  aside  the  received 
doctrine  of  the  books,  that  there  is  no  collective  halluci- 

28* 


530  WAS   THIS   HALLUCINATION? 

nation,  how  can  we  imagine  that  there  should  be  pro- 
duced, at  the  very  same  moment,  without  suggestion,  or 
expectation,  or  unusual  excitement  of  any  kind,  on  the 
brain  of  two  different  persons,  a  perception  of  the  self- 
same image,  minutely  detailed,  without  any  external 
object  to  produce  it  ?  Was  that  image  imprinted  on  the 
retina  in  the  case  both  of  mother  and  daughter?  How 
could  this  be  if  there  was  nothing  existing  in  the  out- 
side world  to  imprint  it?  Or  was  there  no  image  on  the 
retina  ?  Was  it  a  purely  subjective  impression  ?  that  is, 
a  false  perception,  due  to  disease  ?  But  among  the  mil- 
lions of  impressions  which  may  be  produced,  if  imagina- 
tion only  is  the  creative  agent,  how  infinite  the  proba- 
bilities against  the  contingency  that,  out  of  these  millions, 
this  one  especial  object  should  present  itself  in  two  inde- 
pendent cases ! — not  only  a  particular  person,  dressed  in 
a  particular  manner,  but  that  person  advancing  along  a 
road,  approaching  within  a  few  steps  of  the  observers, 
and  then  disappearing !  Yet  even  this  is  not  the  limit 
of  the  adverse  chances.  There  is  not  only  identity  of 
object,  but  exact  coincidence  of  time.  The  two  perceive 
the  very  same  thing  at  the  very  same  moment ;  and  this 
coincidence  continues  throughout  several  minutes. 

What  is  the  natural  and  necessary  conclusion?  That 
there  was  an  image  produced  on  the  retina,  and  that 
there  was  an  objective  reality  there  to  produce  it. 

It  may  seem  marvelous,  it  may  appear  hard  to  be- 
lieve, that  the  appearance  of  a  human  being,  in  his 
usual  dress,  should  present  itself  where  that  human 
being  is  not.  It  would  be  a  thing  a  thousand  times 
more  marvelous,  ten  thousand  times  harder  to  believe, 
that  the  fortuitous  action  of  disease,  freely  ranging 
throughout  the  infinite  variety  of  contingent  possibili- 
ties, should  produce,  by  mere  chance,  a  mass  of  coinci- 
dences such  as  make  up,  in  this  case,  the  concurrent  and 
cotemporaneous  sensations  of  mother  and  daughter 


DR.  DONNE'8  wifi.  88a 

I  might  here  adduce  an  example  which  several  wntera 
have  noticed;  that,  namely,  of  the  apparition  to  Dr 
Donne,  hi  Paris,  of  his  wife,  with  her  hair  hanging  loose 
and  a  dead  child  in  her  arms,  on  the  very  day  and  at 
the  very  hour  that  she  was  delivered  of  a  still-bom  child 
at  Drewry  House,  the  residence  of  Dr.  Donne's  patron, 
Sir  Eobert  Drewry,  then  ambassador  at  the  French 
Court.  It  is  related  and  vouched  for  by  "  honest  Izaak," 
as  his  friends  used  to  call  the  author  of  "  The  Compleat 
Angler;"*  but  it  is  two  hundred  and  fifty  years  old 
Therefore  I  prefer  to  pass  on  to  the  following,  of  modern 
date  and  direct  authentication. 

APPARITION  AT  SEA. 

During  the   autumn  of  1857,  Mr.  Daniel   M ,   a 

young  American  gentleman,  after  having  traveled 
throughout  Germany,  was  returning  to  the  United 
States  in  a  Bremen  packet. 

One   tempestuous   evening   his   mother,  Mrs.  A 

M ,  residing  near  New  York,  knowing  that  her  son 

was  probably  then  at  sea,  became  much  alarmed  for  his 
safety,  and  put  up  in  secret  an  earnest  prayer  that  ho 
might  be  preserved  to  her. 

There  was  residing  in  the  same  house  with  her,  at  that 
time,  one  of  her  nieces,  named  Louisa,  who  was  in  the 
habit  of  receiving  impressions  of  what  might  be  called  a 
Clairvoyant  character.  This  niece  had  heard  the  expres- 
sion of  her  aunt's  fears,  but,  like  the  rest  of  the  family, 
she  was  ignorant  that  these  fears  had  found  expression 
in  prayer  for  her  cousin's  safety.  The  day  after  the 
tempest,  she  had  an  impression  so  vivid  and  distinct 
that  she  was  induced  to  record  it  in  writing.  It  was  to 
the  effect  that  her  aunt  had  no  cause  to  fear,  seeing  that 
the  object  of  her  anxiety  was  in  safety,  and  that  at  the 

♦  "  The  Lives  of  Dr.  John  Donne,  Sir  Henry  Wotton,  dkc."  By  IsaM 
Walton,  Oxford  edition,  1824,  pp.  16  to  19. 


332  COINCIDENT   IMPRESSIONS 

very  hour  of  the  previous  evening  when  the  mother 
had  so  earnestly  put  up  a  secret  prayer  for  him,  her  son, 
being  at  the  time  in  his  state-room,  had  been  conscious  of  his 
mother's  presence. 

This  she  read  to  her  aunt  the  same  day,  thinking  it 
might  tend  to  comfort  her. 

And  then  she  waited  with  great  anxiety  for  her 
cousin's  return,  when  she  might  have  her  doubts  resolved 
as  to  the  truth  or  falsehood  of  the  mysterious  impression 
regarding  him. 

He  arrived  three  weeks  afterward,  safe  and  well;  but 
during  the  afternoon  and  evening  that  succeeded  his 
arrival,  no  allusion  whatever  was  made  by  any  one  to 
the  above  circumstances.  When  the  rest  of  the  family 
retired,  Louisa  remained,  proposing  to  question  him  on 
the  subject.  He  had  stepped  out;  but  after  a  few  mi- 
nutes he  returned  to  the  parlor,  came  up  to  the  opposite 
side  of  the  table  at  which  she  was  sitting,  looking 
agitated,  and,  before  she  herself  could  proffer  a  word, 
he  said,  with  much  emotion,  "  Cousin,  I  must  tell  you 
a  most  remarkable  thing  that  happened  to  me."  And 
with  that,  to  her  astonishment,  he  burst  into  tears. 

She  felt  that  the  solution  of  her  doubts  was  at  hand; 
and  BO  it  proved.  He  told  her  that  one  night  during 
the  voyage,  soon  after  he  had  lain  down,  he  saw,  on  the 
side  of  the  state-room  opposite  his  berth,  the  appear* 
ance  of  his  mother.  It  was  so  startlingly  like  a  real 
person  that  he  rose  and  approached  it.  He  did  not, 
however,  attempt  to  touch  it,  being  ultimately  satisfied 
that  it  was  an  apparition  only.  But  on  his  return  to  his 
berth  he  still  saw  it,  for  some  minutes,  as  before. 

On  comparing  notes,  it  was  ascertained  that  the  even- 
ing on  which  the  young  man  thus  saw  the  appearance 
of  his  mother  at  sea  was  the  same  on  which  she  had  so 
earnestly  prayed  for  his  safety, — the  very  same,  too,  which 
his  cousin  Louisa  had  designated  in  writing,  three  weeks 


RECEIVED   BY    TWO    COUSINS.  SJW 

before,  as  the  time  when  he  had  seen  the  apparition  in 
question.  And,  as  nearly  as  they  could  make  it  out.  the 
hour  also  corresponded. 

The  above  narrative  was  communicated  to  mo*  by 
the  two  ladies  concerned,  the  mother  and  her  niece,  both 
being  together  when  I  obtained  it.  They  are  highly 
intellectual  and  cultivated.  I  am  well  acquainted  with 
them,  and  I  know  that  entire  reliance  may  be  placed  on 
their  statement. 

In  this  case,  as  in  that  in  which  the  apparition  of  Mr. 
Thompson  showed  itself  to  mother  and  daughter,  there 
are  two  persons  having  coincident  sensations;  Louisa 
impressed  that  her  cousin  was  conscious  of  his  mother's 
presence,  and  the  cousin  impressed  with  that  very  con- 
sciousness. Unlike  the  Thompson  case,  the  cousins  were 
many  hundred  miles  distant  from  each  other  at  the  time. 
Suggestion  was  impossible;  equally  so  was  any  mistake 
by  after-thought.  Louisa  committed  her  impression  to 
writing  at  the  time,  and  read  it  to  her  aunt.  The  writing 
remained,  real  and  definite,  in  proof  of  that  impression. 
And  she  made  no  inquiry  of  her  cousin,  put  no  leading 
question,  to  draw  out  a  confirmation  or  refutation  of 
her  perceptions  regarding  him.  The  young  man  volun- 
teered his  story;  and  his  tears  of  emotion  attested  the 
impression  which  the  apparition  had  made. 

Chance  coincidence,  as  every  one  must  see,  was  out 
of  the  question.    Some  other  explanation  must  be  songht. 

The  following  narrative,  drawn  from  nautical  life,  ex- 
hibits coincidences  as  unmistakably  produced  by  some 
agency  other  than  chance. 

THE  RESCUE. 

Mr.  Robert  Bruce,  originally  descended  from  some 
branch  of  the  Scottish  family  of  that  name,  was  born, 

*  On  the  8th  of  August,  1859. 


834  AN   APPARITION 

in  humble  circumstances,  about  the  close  of  the  last  cen- 
tury, atflDorbay,  in  the  south  of  England,  and  there  bred 
up  to  a  seafaring  life. 

When  about  thirty  years  of  age,  to  wit,  in  the  year 
1828,  he  was  first  mate  on  a  bark  trading  between 
Liverpool  and  St.  John's,  New  Brunswick. 

On  one  of  her  voyages  bound  westward,  being  then 
some  five  or  six  weeks  out  and  having  neared  the  east- 
ern portion  of  the  Banks  of  Newfoundland,  the  captain 
and  mate  had  been  on  deck  at  noon,  taking  an  observa- 
tion of  the  sun;  after  which  they  both  descended  to 
calculate  their  day's  work. 

The  cabin,  a  small  one,  was  immediately  at  the  stern 
of  the  vessel,  and  the  short  stairway  descending  to  it 
ran  ath wart-ships.  Immediately  opposite  to  this  stair- 
way, just  beyond  a  small  square  landing,  was  the  mate's 
state-room;  and  from  that  landing  there  were  two 
doors,  close  to  each  other,  the  one  opening  aft  into  the 
cabin,  the  other,  fronting  the  stairway,  into  the  state- 
room. The  desk  in  the  state-room  was  in  the  forward 
part  of  it,  close  to  the  door;  so  that  any  one  sitting  at 
it  and  looking  over  his  shoulder  could  see  into  the  cabin. 

The  mate,  absorbed  in  his  calculation,  which  did  not 
result  as  he  expected,  varying  considerably  from  the 
dead-reckoning,  had  not  noticed  the  captain's  motions. 
When  he  had  completed  his  calculations,  he  called  out, 
without  looking  round,  "  I  make  our  latitude  and  longi- 
tude so  and  so.     Can  that  be  right  ?     How  is  yours  ?" 

Eeceiving  no  reply,  he  repeated  his  question,  glancing 
over  his  shoulder  and  perceiving,  as  he  thought,  the 
captain  busy  writing  on  his  slate.  Still  no  answer. 
Thereupon  he  rose;  and,  as  he  fronted  the  cabin-door, 
the  figure  he  had  mistaken  for  the  captain  raised  its 
head  and  disclosed  to  the  astonished  mate  the  features 
of  an  entire  stranger. 

Bruce  was  no  coward ;  but,  as  he  met  that  fixed  gaze 


IN    THE   captain's   CABIN.  835 

looking  directly  at  him  in  grave  silence,  and  became 
assured  that  it  was  no  one  whom  he  had  ever  seen 
before,  it  was  too  much  for  him ;  and,  instead  of  stop- 
ping to  question  the  seeming  intruder,  he  rushed  upon 
deck  in  such  evident  alarm  that  it  instantly  attracted 
the  captain's  attention.  "  Why,  Mr.  Bruce,*'  said  the 
latter,  "  what  in  the  world  is  the  matter  with  you  ?" 

"  The  matter,  sir  ?     Who  is  that  at  your  desk  V 

"No  one  that  I  know  of." 

"  But  there  is,  sir  :  there's  a  stranger  there." 

"A  stranger!  Why,  man,  you  must  be  dreaming. 
You  must  have  seen  the  steward  there,  or  the  second 
mate.     Who  else  would  venture  down  without  orders  ?" 

"  But,  sir,  he  was  sitting  in  your  arm-chair,  fronting 
the  door,  writing  on  your  slate.  Then  he  looked  up 
full  in  my  face ;  and,  if  ever  I  saw  a  man  plainly  and 
distinctly  in  this  world,  I  saw  him." 

"  Him  !     Whom  ?" 

"God  knows,  sir:  I  don't.  I  saw  a  man,  and  a  man 
I  had  never  seen  in  my  life  before." 

"  You  must  be  going  crazy,  Mr.  Bruce.  A  stranger, 
and  we  nearly  six  weeks  out !" 

"I  know,  sir;  but  then  I  saw  him." 

"  Go  down  and  see  who  it  is." 

Bruce  hesitated.  "  I  never  was  a  believer  in  ghosts/' 
he  said ;  "  but,  if  the  truth  must  be  told,  sir,  I'd  rather 
not  face  it  alone." 

"  Come,  come,  man.  Go  down  at  once,  and  don't 
make  a  fool  of  yourself  before  the  crew." 

''  I  hope  you've  always  found  me  willing  to  do  what's 
reasonable,"  Bruce  replied,  changing  color;  "but  if  it's 
all  the  same  to  you,  sir,  I'd  rather  we  should  both  go 
aown  together." 

The  captain  descended  the  stairs,  and  the  mate  fol- 
lowed him.  Nobody  in  the  cabin !  Thoy  examined 
the  state-rooms.    Not  a  soul  to  be  found ! 


836  THE  CAPTAIN  PUZZLED. 

"  Well,  Mr.  Bruce,"  said  the  captain,  "  did  not  I  tell 
you  you  had  been  dreaming  ?" 

"  It's  all  very  well  to  say  so,  sir ;  but  if  I  didn't  see 
that  man  writing  on  your  slate,  may  I  never  see  my 
home  and  family  again  I" 

''  Ah  !  writing  on  the  slate  !  Then  it  should  be  there 
still."     And  the  captain  took  it  up. 

"By  God,"  he  exclaimed,  "here's  something,  sure 
enough  !     Is  that  your  writing,  Mr.  Bruce  ?" 

The  mate  took  the  slate;  and  there,  in  plain,  legible 
characters,  stood  the  words,  "Steer  to  the  nor'west." 

"Have  you  been  trifling  with  me,  sir?"  added  the 
captain,  in  a  stern  manner. 

"  On  my  word  as  a  man  and  as  a  sailor,  sir,"  replied 
Bruce,  "  I  know  no  more  of  this  matter  than  you  do. 
I  have  told  you  the  exact  truth." 

The  captain  sat  down  at  his  desk,  the  slate  before 
him,  in  deep  thought.  At  last,  turning  the  slate  over 
and  pushing  it  toward  Bruce,  he  said,  "Write  down, 
*  Steer  to  the  nor'west.'  " 

The  mate  complied ;  and  the  captain,  after  narrowly 
comparing  the  two  handwritings,  said,  "  Mr.  Bruce,  go 
and  tell  the  second  mate  to  come  down  here." 

He  came ;  and,  at  the  captain's  request,  he  also  wrote 
the  same  words.  So  did  the  steward.  So,  in  succession, 
did  every  man  of  the  crew  who  could  write  at  all.  But 
not  one  of  the  various  hands  resembled,  in  any  degree, 
the  mysterious  writing. 

When  the  crew  retired,  the  captain  sat  deep  in  thought. 
"  Could  any  one  have  been  stowed  away  ?"  at  last  he 
said.  "The  ship  must  be  searched;  and  if  I  don't  find 
the  fellow  he  must  be  a  good  hand  at  hide-and-seek. 
Order  up  all  hands." 

Every  nook  and  corner  of  the  vessel,  from  stem  to 
siern,  was  thoroughly  searched,  and  that  with  all  the 
eagerness  of  excited  curiosity, — for  the  report  had  gone 


A  fti^ctJifi.  337 

out  that  a  stranger  had  shown  himself  on  board;  but 
not  a  living  soul  beyond  the  crew  and  the  oflBcers  wai 
found. 

Returning  to  the  cabin  after  their  fruitless  search, 
"  Mr.  Bruce,"  said  the  captain,  "  what  the  devil  do  you 
make  of  all  this  ?" 

"Can't  tell,  sir.  I  saw  the  man  write;  you  see  the 
writing.     There  must  be  something  in  it." 

"  Well,  it  would  seem  so.  Wo  have  the  wind  free, 
and  1  have  a  great  mind  to  keep  her  away  and  see  what 
will  come  of  it." 

"  I  surely  would,  sir,  if  I  were  in  your  placd.  It's 
Only  a  few  hours  lost,  at  the  worst." 

"  Well,  we'll  see.  Go  on  deck  and  give  the  course 
iiOr'west.  And,  Mr.  Bruce,"  he  added,  as  the  mate  rose 
to  go,  "  have  a  look-out  aloft,  and  let  it  be  a  hand  you 
can  depend  on." 

His  orders  were  obeyed.  About  three  o'clock  the 
look-out  reported  an  iceberg  nearly  ahead,  and,  shortly 
after,  what  he  thought  was  a  vessel  of  some  kind  close 
to  it. 

As  they  approached,  the  captain's  glass  disclosed  the 
fact  that  it  was  a  dismantled  ship,  apparently  frozen  to 
the  ice,  and  with  a  good  many  human  beings  on  it. 
Shortly  after,  they  hove  to,  and  sent  out  the  boats  to 
the  relief  of  the  sufferers. 

It  proved  to  be  a  vessel  from  Quebec,  bound  to  Liver- 
pool, with  passengers  on  board.  She  had  got  entangled 
in  the  ice,  and  finally  frozen  fast,  and  had  passed  several 
weeks  in  a  most  critical  situation.  She  was  stove,  her 
decks  swept, — in  fact,  a  mere  wreck;  all  her  provisions 
and  almost  all  her  water  gone.  Her  crew  and  passen- 
gers had  lost  all  hopes  of  being  saved,  and  their  grati- 
tude for  the  unexpected  rescue  was  proportionatelj* 
great. 

As  one  of  the  men  who  had  been   brought  away  in 


335  THE   APPARITION    APPEARS 

the  third  boat  that  had  reached  the  wreck  was  ascend- 
ing the  ship's  side,  the  mate,  catching  a  glimpse  of  his 
face,  started  back  in  consternation.  It  was  the  very- 
face  he  had  seen,  three  or  four  hours  before,  looking  up 
at  him  from  the  captain's  desk. 

At  first  he  tried  to  persuade  himself  it  might  be  fancy ; 
but  the  more  he  examined  the  man  the  more  sure  he 
became  that  he  was  right.  Not  only  the  face,  but  the 
person  and  the  dress,  exactly  corresponded. 

As  soon  as  the  exhausted  crew  and  famished  passen- 
gers were  cared  for,  and  the  bark  on  her  course  again, 
the  mate  called  the  captain  aside.  "  It  seems  that  was 
not  a  ghost  I  saw  to-day,  sir :  the  man's  alive." 

**  What  do  you  mean  ?     Who's  alive  ?" 

"  Why,  sir,  one  of  the  passengers  we  have  mst  saved 
is  the  same  man  I  saw  writing  on  your  sla^.e  at  noon. 
I  would  swear  to  it  in  a  court  of  justice." 

"Upon  my  word,  Mr.  Bruce,"  replied  the  captain, 
"  this  gets  more  and  more  singular.  Let  us  ^o  and  see 
this  man." 

They  found  him  in  conversation  with  the  captain  of 
the  rescued  ship.  They  both  came  forward,  and  ex- 
pressed, in  the  warmest  terms,  their  gratitude  for  de- 
liverance from  a  horrible  fate, — slow-coming  death  by 
exposure  and  starvation. 

The  captain  replied  that  he  had  but  done  what  he  was 
certain  they  would  have  done  for  him  under  the  same 
circumstances,  and  asked  them  both  to  step  down  into 
the  cabin.  Then,  turning  to  the  passenger,  he  said,  *<  I 
hope,  sir,  you  will  not  think  I  am  trifling  with  you ;  but 
1  would  be  much  obliged  to  you  if  you  would  write  a 
few  words  on  this  slate."  And  he  handed  him  the  slate, 
with  that  side  up  on  which  the  mysterious  writing  was 
not.  "  I  will  do  any  thing  you  ask,"  replied  the  passen- 
ger ;  "  but  what  shall  I  write  ?" 


TO    BE   THAT    OF    A    LIVING   PERSON.  839 

"  A  few  words  are  all  I  want.     Suppose  you  write, 

*  Steer  to  tlie  nor'west.'  " 

Tlio  passenger,  evidently  puzzled  to  make  out  tho 
motive  for  such  a  request,  complied,  however,  with  a 
smile.  The  captain  took  up  the  slate  and  examined  it 
closely ;  then,  stepping  aside  so  as  to  conceal  tho  slate 
from  the  passenger,  he  turned  it  over,  and  gave  it  to  him 
again  with  the  other  side  up. 

"  You  say  that  is  your  handwriting?"  said  he. 

"  I  need  not  say  so,"  rejoined  the  other,  looking  at  it, 

*  for  you  saw  me  write  it." 

"  And  this  ?"  said  the  captain,  turning  the  slate  over. 

The  man  looked  first  at  one  writing,  then  at  the 
other,  quite  confounded.  At  last,  "  What  is  the  meaning 
of  this?"  said  he.  *^I  only  wrote  one  of  these.  Who 
wrote  the  other  ?" 

<<  That's  more  than  I  can  tell  you,  sir.  My  mate  hero 
says  you  wrote  it,  sitting  at  this  desk,  at  noon  to-day." 

The  captain  of  the  wreck  and  the  passenger  looked 
at  each  other,  exchanging  glances  of  intelligence  and 
surprise  j  and  the  former  asked  tho  latter,  "  Did  you 
dream  that  you  wrote  on  this  slate  ?" 

"  Ko,  sir,  not  that  I  remember." 

"  You  speak  of  droaming,"  said  the  captain  of  tho 
bark,  "What  was  this  gentleman  about  at  noon  to- 
day?" 

"  Captain,"  rejoined  the  other,  "  the  whole  thing  is 
most  mysterious  and  extraordinary;  and  I  had  intended 
to  speak  to  you  about  it  as  soon  as  we  got  a  little 
quiet.  This  gentleman,"  (pointing  to  the  passenger,) 
"  being  much  exhausted,  fell  into  a  heavy  sleep,  or  w^at 
seemed  such,  some  time  before  noon.  After  an  hour  or 
more,  he  awoke,  and  said  to  me,  'Captain,  we  shall  be 
relieved  this  very  day.'  When  I  asked  him  what  reason 
ho  had  for  saying  so,  he  replied  that  he  had  dreamed 
that  he  was  on  board  a  bark,  and  that  she  was  coining 


840  WHAT   THE   PASSENGER   DREAMED. 

to  our  rescue.  He  described  her  appearance  and  rigj 
:ind,  to  our  utter  astonishment,  when  your  vessel  hove 
m  sight  she  corresponded  exactly  to  his  description  of 
her  We  had  not  put  much  faith  in  wliat  he  said;  yet 
still  we  hoped  there  might  be  something  in  it,  for  drown- 
ing men,  you  know,  will  catch  at  straws.  As  it  has 
turned  out,  I  cannot  doubt  that  it  was  all  arranged,  in 
some  incomprehensible  way,  by  an  overruling  Provi- 
dence, so  that  we  might  be  saved.  To  Him  be  all  thanks 
for  His  goodness  to  us.'' 

"There  is  not  a  doubt,"  rejoined  the  other  captain, 
"  that  the  writing  on  the  slate,  let  it  have  come  there 
as  it  may,  saved  all  your  lives.  I  was  steering  at  the 
time  considerably  south  of  west,  and  I  altered  my 
course  to  nor'west,  and  had  a  look-out  aloft,  to  see  what 
would  come  of  it.  But  you  say,"  he  added,  turning  to 
the  passenger,  'Hhat  you  did  not  dream  of  writing  on 
a  slate?" 

''  No,  sir.  I  have  no  recollection  whatever  of  doing 
so.  I  got  the  impression  that  the  bark  I  saw  in  my 
dream  was  coming  to  rescue  us;  but  how  that  im- 
pression came  I  cannot  tell.  There  is  another  very 
strange  thing  about  it,"  he  added.  *' Every  thing  here 
on  board  seems  to  me  quite  familiar;  yet  I  am  very 
sure  I  never  was  in  your  vessel  before.  It  is  all  a 
puzzle  to  me.     What  did  j^our  mate  see?" 

Thereupon  Mr.  Bruce  related  to  them  all  the  circum- 
stances above  detailed.  The  conclusion  they  finally 
arrived  at  was,  that  it  was  a  special  interposition  of 
Providence  to  save  them  from  what  seemed  a  hopeless 
fat^. 

The  above  narrative  was  communicated  to  me  by 
Capt  J.  S.  Clarke,  of  the  schooner  Julia  Hallock,*  who 


•  In  July,  1859.     The  Julia  Hallock  was  then  lying  at  the  foot  of  Rut- 
eer»  &iip»  Nevr  York.      She  trades  between  New  .York  and  St  Ja^o,  in  th« 


VOUCHERS    FOR   THE    STORY.  8*1 

hud  it  directly  from  Mr.  Bruce  himself.  They  sailed 
together  for  seventeen  months,  in  the  years  1836  and 
'37;  so  that  Captain  Clarke  had  the  story  from  the 
mate  about  eight  years  after  the  occurrence.  He  has 
since  lost  sight  of  him,  and  does  not  know  whether  he 
is  yet  alive.  All  he  has  heard  of  him  since  they  were 
shipmates  is,  that  he  continued  to  trade  to  New  Bruns- 
wick, that  he  became  the  master  of  the  brig  Comet,  and 
that  she  was  lost. 

I  asked  Captain  Clarke  if  he  knew  Bruce  well,  and 
what  sort  of  man  he  was. 

"As  truthful  and  straightforward  a  man,"  he  re- 
plied, '*as  ever  I  met  in  all  my  life  We  were  as  inti- 
mate as  bi"Others;  and  two  men  can't  be  together,  shut 
up  for  seventeen  months  in  the  same  ship,  without 
getting  to  know  whether  they  can  trust  one  another's 
word  or  not.  He  always  spoke  of  the  circumstance  in 
terms  of  reverence,  as  of  an  incident  that  seemed  to 
bring  him  nearer  to  God  and  to  another  world.  I'd 
stake  my  life  upon  it  that  he  told  me  no  lie." 

This  stor}-,  it  will  be  observed,  I  had  at  second  hand 
only,  and  related  after  an  interval  of  more  than  twenty 
j-ears  from  the  time  it  was  told  to  Captain  Clarke.  I 
had  no  opportunity  of  cross-examining  the  main  wit- 
ness. Inaccuracies,  therefore,  may,  with  the  best  in- 
tentions on  the  part  of  all  concerned,  have  crept  into 
it.  Yet  the  evidence,  with  the  drawback  above  stated, 
is  direct  enough.  And  Captain  Clark  furnishes  the 
best  proof  of  his  sincerity  when  he  permits  me  to  use 
his  name  as  reference,  in  support  of  what  I  have  here 
related. 


island  of  Cuba.     The  captain  allowed  me  to  use  bis  name,  and  to  rcler  to 
him  as  evidence  for  the  truth  of  what  is  here  set  down. 
2«* 


842  THE   DYING    MOTHER 

Evidence  at  second  hand,  how  reliable  soever  it  ap- 
pear, might  properly  be  deemed  inconclusive  if  the 
story  stood  alone.  But  if  we  find  others,  as  we  have, 
directly  authenticated,  of  the  same  class,  furnishing 
proof  of  phenomena  strictly  analogous  to  those  which 
lie  at  the  bottom  of  this  narrative,  there  seems  no  suffi- 
cient reason  why  we  should  regard  it  as  apocryphal, 
or,  setting  it  down  as  some  idle  forecastle  yarn,  should 
refuse  to  admit  it  as  a  valid  item  of  evidence. 

It  is  not,  for  example,  characterized  by  phenomena 
more  marvelous  than  those  presented  in  the  following 
story,  of  much  later  date,  and  directly  authenticated  by 
the  chief  witness  : — 

THE  DYING  MOTHER  AND  HER  BABE. 

In  November  of  the  year  1843,  Miss  H ,  a  young 

lady  then  betw^een  thirteen  and  fourteen  years  of  age, 
was  on  a  visit  to  a  family  of  her  acquaintance  (Mr. 
and  Mrs.  E )  residing  at  their  country-seat  in  Cam- 
bridgeshire, England.     Mrs.  E was  taken  ill;  and, 

her  disease  assuming  a  serious  form,  she  w^as  recom- 
mended to  go  to  London  for  medical  advice.  She  did 
so;  her  husband  accompanied  her;  and  they  left  their 
guest  and  their  two  children,  the  youngest  only  ten 
weeks  old,  at  home. 

The  journey,  however,  proved  unavailing:  the  dis- 
ease increased,  and  that  so  rapidly  that,  after  a  brief 
sojourn  in  the  metropolis,  the  patient  could  not  bear 
removal. 

In  the  mean  time  the  youngest  child,  little  Fannie, 
sickened,  and,  after  a  brief  illness,  died.  They  wrote 
immediately  to  the  father,  then  attending  on  what  he 
felt  to  be  the  death-bed  of  his  wife;  and  he  posted  down 
at  once.     It  was  on  a  Monday  that  the  inftxpt  died;  on 

Tuesday  Mr.  E- arrived,  made  arrangements  for  the 

funeral,  and  left  on  "Wednesday  to  return  to  his  wife, 


AND    HER    BABE.  S43 

from  whom,  however,  he  concealed  the  death  of  hor 
infant. 

On  Thursday,  Miss  H received  from  him  a  letter, 

in  which  he  begged  her  to  go  into  his  study  and  take 
from  his  desk  there  certain  papers  which  were  press- 
ingly  wanted.  It  was  in  this  study  that  the  body  of 
the  infant  lay  in  its  coffin;  and,  as  the  young  lady  pro- 
ceeded thither  to  execute  the  commission,  one  of  the 
servants  said  to  her,  "Oh,  miss,  are  you  not  afraid?" 
She  replied  that  there  was  nothing  to  be  afraid  of,  and 
entered  the  study,  where  she  found  the  papers  required. 
As  she  turned,  before  leaving  the  room,  to  look  at  the 
babe,  she  saw,  reclining  on  a  sofa  near  to  it,  the  figure 
of  a  lady  whom  she  recognized  as  the  mother.  Having 
from  infancy  been  accustomed  to  the  occasional  sight 
of  apparitions,  she  was  not  alarmed,  but  approached  the 
sofa  to  satisfy  herself  that  it  was  the  appearance  of  her 
friend.  Standing  within  three  or  four  feet  of  the  figure 
for  several  minutes,  she  assured  herself  of  its  identity. 
It  did  not  speak,  but,  raising  one  arm,  it  first  pointed 
to  the  body  of  the  infant,  and  then  signed  upward. 
Soon  afterward,  and  before  it  disappeared,  the  young 
lady  left  the  room. 

This  was   a  few  minutes  after   four  o'clock   in    the 

afternoon.     Miss  H particularly  noticed  the  time, 

as  she  heard  the  clock  strike  the  hour  a  little  before 
she  entered  the  study. 

The  next  day  she  received  from  Mr.  E a  letter, 

informing  her  that  his  wife  had  died  the  preceding  day 
(Thursday)  at  half-past  four.  And  when,  a  few  days 
later,  that  gentleman  himself  arrived,  he  stated  that  Mrs. 

E 's  mind  had  evidently  wandered  before  her  death;. 

for,  but  a  little  time  previous  to  that  event,  seeming  to 
revive  as  from  a  swoon,  she  had  asked  her  husband  "  why 
he  had  not  told  her  that  her  baby  was  in  heaven."  When 
he  replied  evasively,  still  wishing  to  conceal  from  her  the 


544        HOW  PHENOMENA  ARE  HUSHED  UP. 

fact  of  her  child's  death,  lest  the  shock  might  hasten 
her  own,  she  said  to  him,  "It  is  useless  to  deny  it, 
Samuel;  for  I  have  just  been  home,  and  have  seen  her  in 
her  little  coffin.  Except  for  your  sake,  I  am  glad  she  is 
gone  to  a  better  world;  for  I  shall  soon  be  there  to  meet 
her  myself."     Very  shortly  after  this  she  expired. 

This  narrative  was  related  to  me  in  January,  1859, 
by  the  lady  who  saw  the  apparttion.  She  is  now  the 
wife  of  a  learned  professor,  and  the  active  and  respected 
mother  of  a  family,  with  as  little,  apparently,  of  the 
idle  enthusiast  or  dreamy  visionary  about  her  as  pos- 
sible.    She  resides  near  London.* 

It  will  be  observed  that,  as  the  young  lady  entered 
the  study  a  few  minutes  after  four,  and  as  the  mother 
spoke  of  her  alleged  visit  very  shortly  before  her  death, 
which  occurred  at  half-past  four,  the  coincidence  as  to 
time  is,  as  nearly  as  may  be,  exact. 

In  the  preceding  narrative,  as  in  most  of  those  which 
reach  us  touching  apparitions  of  the  living,  the  subject 
of  the  phenomenon  was  insensible  during  its  occurrence 
But  this  does  not  seem  to  be  a  necessary  condition. 
Examples  may  be  found  in  which  not  only  the  person 
of  whom  the  double  appears  is  not  asleep  nor  in  a  trance, 
but  is  present  at  the  moment  of  that  appearance,  and 
himself  witnesses  it.     Such  an  example   I   have   been 

*  This  story  was  submitted  by  me,  in  manuscript,  to  the  lady  in  question, 
and  its  accuracy  assented  to  by  her. 

In  exemplification  of  the  manner  in  which   such   phenomena  are  often 

kept  hushed  up,  I  may  state  that  Miss  H ,  though  with  an  inslinctivo 

feeling  of  bow  it  would  be  received,  ventured,  soon  after  she  left  the 
study,  to  say  to  a  lady  then  residing  in  the  house,  that  she  thought  she  had 

just  seen  Mrs.  E ,  and  hoped  there  would  be  no  bad  news  from  London 

the  next  day.  For  this  she  was  so  sharply  chidden,  and  so  peremptorily 
bid  not  to  nurse  such  ridiculous  fancies,  that,  even  when  the  confirmatory 

news  arrived  and  Mr.  E returned  home,  she  was  deterred  *rom  "tating 

the  circnmstance  to  him.    To  this  day  he  does  not  know  it. 


4N   INCIDENT   IN   OHIO.  845 

fortunate  enough  to  obtain,  directly  authenticated  hy 
two  of  the  witnesses  present.     Ilere  it  is: — * 

THE  TWO  SISTERS. 
In  the  month  of  October,  1833,  Mr.  C ,  a  gentle- 
man, several  members  of  whose  family  have  since  be- 
come well  and  favorably  known  in  the  literary  world, 
was  residing  in  a  country-house,  in  Hamilton  County, 
Ohio.  He  had  just  completed  a  new  residence,  about 
seventy  or  eighty  yards  from  that  in  which  he  was  then 
living,  intending  to  move  into  it  in  a  few  days.  The 
new  house  was  in  plain  sight  of  the  old,  no  tree  or 
shrub  intervening;  but  they  were  separated,  about  half- 
way, by  a  small,  somewhat  abrupt  ravine.  A  garden 
stretched  from  the  old  house  to  the  hither  edge  of  this 
ravine,  and  the  farther  extremity  of  this  garden  was 
about  fort}^  yards  from  the  newly-erected  building.  Both 
buildings  fronted  west,  toward  a  public  road,  the  south 
side  of  the  old  dwelling  being  directly  opposite  to  the 
north  side  of  the  new.  Attached  to  the  rear  of  the  new 
dwelling  was  a  spacious  kitchen,  of  which  a  door  opened 
to  the  north. 

*  In  the  first  editions  of  this  work,  another  narrative,  bearing  upon  the 
habitual  appearance  of  a  living  person,  was  here  given.  It  is  now  replaced 
by  that  of  the  "  Two  Sisters,"  for  the  following  reasons.  A  friend  of  on« 
of  the  parties  concerned,  having  made  inquiries  regarding  the  story,  kindly 
furni:<ht>d  me  with  the  result;  and  the  evidence  thus  adduced  tended  Ut 
invalidate  essential  portions  of  it.  A  recent  visit  to  Europe  enabled  me  to 
make  further  inquiries  into  the  matter;  and  though,  in  some  respects,  thes« 
were  confirmatory,  yet  I  learned  that  a  considerable  portion  of  the  narrative 
ia  question,  which  had  been  represented  to  me  as  directly  attei<ted,  was  in 
reality  sustained  only  by  second-han^  evidence.  This  circumstance,  takea 
in  connection  with  the  conflicting  statements  above  referred  to,  places  the 
story  outside  the  rule  of  authentication  to  which,  in  these  pages,  I  have 
endeavored  scrupulously  to  conform  ;  and  I  therefore  omit  it  altogether. 

It  is  very  gratifying  to  find  that,  after  the  test  of  six  months'  publicity, 
the  authenticity  of  but  a  single  narrative,  out  of  the  seventy  or  eighty  that 
are  embraced  in  this  volume,  has  been  called  in  question. — Not*  to  ttntk 
*Jiou$and,  September,  1S60. 


84d  apparitions  op  the  living, 

Th^  family,  at  that  time,  consisted  of  father,  mother, 
uncle,  and  nine  children.  One  of  the  elder  daughters, 
then  between  fifteen  and  sixteen  years  old,  was  named 
Rhoda;  and  another,  the  youngest  but  one,  Lucy,  was 
between  three  and  four  years  of  age. 

One  afternoon  in  that  month  of  October,  after  a  heavy 
rain,  the  weather  had  cleared  up;  and  between  four  and 
five  o'clock  the  sun  shone  out.     About  five  o'clock,  Mrs. 

C stepped  out  into  a  yard  on  the  south  side  of  the 

dwelling  they  were  occupying,  whence,  in  the  evening 
Bun,  the  new  house,  including  the  kitchen  already  re- 
ferred to,  was  distinctly  visible.     Suddenly  she  called  a 

daughter,   A ,   sa^nng   to   her,  "  What   can  Rhoda 

possibly  be  doing  there,  with  the  child  in  her  arms? 

She  ought  to  know  better,  this  damp  weather.''    A , 

looking  in  the  direction  in  which  her  mother  pointed, 
saw,  plainly  and  unmistakably,  seated  in  a  rocking- 
chair  just  within  the  kitchen-door  of  the  new  residence, 
Rhoda,  with  Lucy  in  her  arms.  "  What  a  strange  thing  I" 
she  exclaimed  :  "  it  is  but  a  few  minutes  since  I  left  them 
up-stairs."  And,  with  that,  going  in  search  of  them, 
she  found  both  in  one  of  the  upper  rooms,  and  brought 

them   down.     Mr.  C and   other  members   of  the 

family  soon  joined  them.  Their  amazement — that  of 
Rhoda  especially — may  be  imagined.  The  figures  seated 
at  the  hall-door,  and  the  two  children  now  actually  in 
their  midst,  were  absolutely  identical  in  appearance, 
even  to  each  minute  particular  of  dress. 

Five  minutes  more  elapsed,  in  breathless  expectation, 
and  there  still  sat  the  figure^;  that  of  Rhoda  appearing 
to  rock  with  the  motion  of  the  chair  on  which  it  seemed 
seated.  All  the  family  congregated,  and  every  member 
of  it — therefore  twelve  persons  in  all — saw  the  figures, 
noticed  the  rocking  motion,  and  became  convinced, 
past  all  possible  doubt,  that  it  was  the  appearance  of 
Rhoda  and  Lucy. 


SEEN   BT   TWELVE   PERSONS.  347 

Then  the  father,  Mr.  C ,  resolved  to  cross  over 

and  endeavor  to  obtain  some  solution  of  the  mystery; 
but,  having  lost  sight  of  the  figures  in  descending  the 
ravine,  when  he  ascended  the  opposite  bank  they  were 
gone. 

Meanwhile  the  daughter  A had  walked  down  to 

the  lower  end  of  the  garden,  so  as  to  get  a  closer  view ; 
and  the  rest  remained  gazing  from  the  spot  whence 
they  had  first  witnessed  this  unaccountable  pheno- 
menon. 

Soon  after  Mr.  C had  left  the  house,  they  all  saw 

the  appearance  of  Rhoda  rise  from  the  chair  with  the 
child  in  its  arms,  then  lie  down  across  the  threshold  of 
the  kitchen-door;  and,  after  it  had  remained  in  that 
recumbent  position  for  a  minute  or  two,  still  embracing 
the  child,  the  figures  were  seen  gradually  to  sink  down, 
out  of  sight. 

When  Mr.  C reached  the  entrance  there  was  not 

a  trace  nor  appearance  of  a  human  being.  The  rocking- 
chair,  which  had  been  conveyed  across  to  the  kitchen 
some  time  before,  still  stood  there,  just  inside  the  door, 
but  it  was  empty.  He  searched  the  house  carefully, 
from  garret  to  cellar;  but  nothing  whatever  was  to  be 
seen.  He  inspected  the  clay,  soft  from  the  rain,  at  the 
rear  exit  of  the  kitchen,  and  all  around  the  house,  but 
not  a  footstep  could  he  discover.  There  was  not  a  tree 
or  bush  anywhere  near  behind  which  any  one  could 
secrete  himself,  the  dwelling  being  erected  on  a  bare 
hill-side. 

The  father  returned  from  his  fruitless  search,  to  learn, 
with  a  shudder,  what  the  family,  meanwhile,  had  wit- 
nessed. The  circumstance,  as  may  be  supposed,  made 
upon  them  a  profound  impression;  stamping  itself,  in 
indelible  characters,  on  the  mjnds  of  all.  But  any 
mention  of  it  was  usually  avoided,  as  something  tog 
SiBrJous  to  form  the  topic  of  ordinary  conversation. 


o48  THE   RED   dress: 

I  received  it  directly  from  two  of  the  witnesaeis* 

Miss  A :,  and  her  sister,  Miss  P .     They  both 

stated  to  me  that  their  recollections  of  it  were  as  vivid 
as  if  it  had  occurred  but  a  few  weeks  since. 

No  clew  or  explanation  of  any  kind  was  ever  obtained; 
unless  we  are  to  accept  as  such  the  fact  that  Ehoda,  a 
very  beautiful  and  cultivated  girl,  at  the  time  in  bloom 
ing  health,  died  very  unexpectedly  on  the  11th  of  No 
vember  of  the  year  following,  and  that  Lucy,  then  also 
perfectly  well,  followed  her  isister  on  the  10th  of  De- 
cember, the  same  year:  both  deaths  occurring,  it  will  bo 
observed,  within  a  little  more  than  a  year  of  that  day  on 
which  the  family  saw  the  apparition  of  the  sisters. 

There  is  a  sequel  to  this  story,  less  conclusive,  but 
which  may  be  worth  relating. 

The  new  house  was,  after  a  time,  tenanted  by  a  son 
of  Mr.  C ;  and,  even  from  the  time  it  was  first  occu- 
pied, it  began  to  acquire  the  reputation  of  being  occa- 
sionally,  and  to  a  slight  extent,  what  is  called  haunted. 
The  most  remarkable  incident  occurred  in  this  wise  : — 

A  son  of  Mr.  C 's  brother,  seven  years  old,  Alex- 
ander by  name,  was  playing  one  day,  in  the  year  1858, 
in  an  upper  room,  when,  all  at  once,  he  noticed  a  little 
girl,  seemingly  about  four  years  old,  with  a  bright  red 
dress.  Though  he  had  never  seen  her  before,  he  ap- 
proached her,  hoping  to  find  a  playmate,  when  she  sud- 
denly vanished  before  his  eyes,  or,  as  the  child  afterward 
expressed  it,  she  "went  right  out."  Though  a  bold, 
fearless  boy,  he  was  very  much  frightened  by  this  sudden 
disappearance,  and  came  running  down-stairs  to  relate 
it  in  accents  of  terror  to  his  mother. 

It  was  afterward  recollected  that,  during  little  Lucy's 

*  In  New  York,  on  February  22,  1860.  On  February  27,  I  submitted 
to  these  ladies  the  manuscript  of  the  narrative,  and  they  assented  to  its 
accuracy. 


DOES    IT    SUPPLY    A    HINT?  849 

last  illness,  they  had  been  preparing  for  her  a  red  dress, 
which  grcatl}^  pleased  the  child's  fancy.  She  was  very 
anxious  that  it  should  be  completed. 

One  day  she  had  said  to  a  sister,  "You  will  finish  my 
dress,  even  if  I  am  ill :  will  you  not?"  To  which  her 
sister  had  replied,  "  Certainly,  my  dear,  we  shall  finish 
it,  of  course."  "Oh,  not  of  coarse,"  said  the  child: 
"finish  it  of  fine."  This  expression,  at  which  they 
laughed  at  the  time,  served  to  perpetuate  in  the  family 
the  remembrance  of  the  anxiety  constantly  evinced  by 
the  little  sufferer  about  her  new  red  dress;  which,  how- 
ever, she  never  lived  to  wear. 

It  need  hardly  be  added,  that  the  little  Alexander  had 
never  heard  of  his  aunt  Lucy,  dying  as  she  did  in  in. 
fancy  twenty-five  j^ears  before.  The  impression  pro* 
duced  by  this  incident  on  the  boy's  mind,  bold  as  was 
his  natural  character,  was  so  deep  and  lasting  that,  for 
months  afterward,  nothing  could  induce  him  to  enter 
the  room  again. 

Perhaps  we  ought  not  to  pass  by  unheedingly  a  hint 
even  so  slightly  indicated  as  that  suggested  by  this  last 
incident.  The  "  ruling  passion  strong  in  death"  has  be- 
come a  proverbial  expression;  and,  to  a  four-years  infant, 
the  longing  after  a  bright  new  dress  might  take  the 
place  of  maturer  yearnings, — of  love,  in  the  youth ;  of 
ambition,  in  the  man  of  riper  years.  Why  a  childish 
fancy  cherished  up  to  the  last  moment  of  earth-lifa 
should  so  operate  in  another  phase  of  being  as  to  modify 
a  spirit-appearance,  is  not  clear;  perhaps  it  is  unlikely 
that  it  should  do  so;  it  may  not  have  been  Lucy  who 
appeared;  the  coincidence  may  have  been  purely  for- 
tuitous. Yet  I  do  not  feel  sure  that  it  was  so,  or  that 
no  connection  exists  between  the  death-bed  longing  and 
the  form  selected  (if  it  was  selected)  by  the  child-aunt 
when  she  appeared  (if  she  did  really  appear)  to  her 
itartled  nephew. 


850  REMARKS    OP   THE    FOREGOING. 

In  the  above  example,  as  in  that  already  givpp  of  Mr. 
Thompson  appearing  to  mother  and  daughter,  it  is  evi- 
dent that  the  apparition  of  the  two  sisters,  whatever  its 
exact  character,  must  have  been,  in  some  sense,  object- 
ive ;  in  other  words,  it  must  have  produced  an  image 
on  the  retina ;  for  upon  the  senses  of  twelve  witnesses 
precisely  the  same  impression  was  made.  Each  one 
recognised,  in  the  figures  seated  at  the  open  door,  at 
seventy  or  eighty  yards'  distance,  the  sisters  Ehoda  and 
Lucy.  All  witnessed  the  motion  of  the  rocking-chair. 
All,  with  the  exception  of  Mr.  C ,  saw  the  appear- 
ance of  Ehoda  rise  from  that  chair,  lie  down  across  the 
threshold  of  the  door,  and  then  disappear,  as  if  sinking 
into   the   earth.      Of   the   persons   thus   present.  Miss 

A ,  one  of  the  two  ladies  whose  personal  deposition 

to  me  attests  this  narrative,  witnessed  the  apparent 
rising  from  the  chair  and  sinking  into  the  ground  from 
the  lower  end  of  the  garden,  a  distance  of  forty  yards 
only.  Finally,  the  actual  presence  of  Ehoda  and  Lucy, 
in  bodily  form,  among  the  spectators,  precluded  the 
possibility  of  trick  or  optical  deception. 

This  presence  of  the  two  sisters,  in  their  normal  con- 
dition, suggests  also  a  wholesome  lesson.  We  must  not 
generalize  too  hastily  from  a  few  facts.  In  most  of  the 
preceding  examples,  the  person  appearing  was  asleep  or 
in  a  trance;  and  the  theory  which  the  most  readily  sug- 
gests itself  is  that,  while  the  "  brother  of  death"  held  sway, 
the  spiritual  body,  partially  detached,  might  assume,  at 
distance  from  the  natural  body,  the  form  of  its  earthly 
associate.  But  in  the  present  case  that  theory  seems 
inapplicable.  The  counterpart  of  the  two  sisters,  seen 
by  themselves  as  well  as  others,  appears  to  be  a  phe- 
nomenon of  a  different  character, — more  in  the  nature 
of  a  picture,  or  representation,  perhaps;  by  what  agency 
or  for  what  object  presented  we  shall,  it  may  be,  inquire 
in  vain. 


LOOKINQ   ON    one's   OWN    BODT.  861 

Indeed,  it  is  altogether  illogical,  in  each  particular 
instance  of  apparition,  or  other  rare  and  unexplained 
phenomenon,  to  deny  its  reality  until  we  can  explain 
the  purpose  of  its  appearance;  to  reject,  in  fact,  every 
extraordinary  occurrence  until  it  shall  have  been  clearly 
explained  to  us  for  what  great  object  God  ordains  or 
permits  it.  In  the  present  example  we  discover  no  suf- 
ficient reason  why  two  deaths  not  to  occur  for  more 
than  a  year  should  be  thus  obscurely  foreshadowed,  if. 
indeed,  foreshadowed  they  were.  The  only  effect  we  may 
imagine  to  have  been  produced  would  be  a  vague  appre- 
hension of  evil,  without  certain  cause  or  definite  indi- 
cation. But  what  then  ?  The  phenomenon  is  one  of  a 
class,  governed,  doubtless,  by  general  laws.  There  is 
good  reason,  we  may  justly  infer,  for  the  existence  of 
that  class;  but  we  ought  not  to  be  called  upon  to  show 
the  particular  end  to  be  effected  by  each  example.  As 
a  general  proposition,  we  believe  in  the  utility  of  thunder- 
Btoi  ms,  as  tending  to  purify  the  atmosphere ;  but  who 
has  a  right  to  require  that  we  disclose  the  designs  of 
Providence,  if,  during  the  elemental  war,  Amelia  be 
stricken  down  a  corpse  from  the  arms  of  Celadon  ? 

Space  fails  me,  and  it  might  little  avail,  to  multiply 
examples  attesting  apparitions  of  the  living.  I  close 
the  series,  therefore,  by  placing  before  the  reader  a  nar- 
rative wherein,  perhaps,  he  may  find  some  traces,  vague 
if  they  be,  indicating  the  character  of  so  many  of  the 
preceding  examples  as  relate  to  appearances  which  show 
themselves  during  sleep  or  trance,  and  hinting  to  us, 
if  even  slightly,  how  these  may  occur.  I  am  enabled 
to  furnish  it  at  first  hand. 

THE  VISIONARY  EXCURSION. 
In  June  of  the  year  1857,  a  lady  whom  I  shall  desig- 
nate as  Mrs.  A (now  Lady )  was  residing  with 


){§3  THE    EXCURSION. 

her  husband,  a  colonel  in  the  British  army,  and  theit 
infant  child,  on  Woolwich  Common,  near  London. 

One  night  in  the  early  part  of  that  month,  suddenly 
awaking  to  consciousness,  she  felt  herself  as  if  standing 
by  the  bedside  and  looking  upon  her  own  body,  which 
lay  there  by  the  side  of  her  sleeping  husband.  Her 
first  impression  was  that  she  had  died  suddenly;  and 
the  idea  was  confirmed  by  the  pale  and  lifeless  look  of 
the  body,  the  face  void  of  expression,  and  the  whole 
appearance  showing  no  sign  of  vitality.  She  gazed  at  it 
with  curiosity  for  some  time,  comparing  its  dead  look 
with  that  of  the  fresh  countenances  of  her  husband  and 
of  her  slumbering  infant  in  a  cradle  hard  by.  For  a 
moment  she  experienced  a  feeling  of  relief  that  she  had 
escaped  the  pangs  of  death;  but  the  next  she  reflected 
what  a  grief  her  death  would  be  to  the  survivors,  and 
then  came  a  wish  that  she  could  have  broken  the  news 
to  them  gradually.  While  engaged  in  these  thoughts, 
she  felt  herself  carried  to  the  wall  of  the  room,  with  a 
feeling  that  it  must  arrest  her  farther  progress.  But 
no :  she  seemed  to  pass  through  it  into  the  open  air. 
Outside  the  house  was  a  tree;  and  this  also  she  appeared 
to  traverse,  as  if  it  interposed  no  obstacle.  All  this 
occurred  without  anj^  desire  on  her  part.  Equally  with- 
out having  wished  or  expected  it,  she  found  herself, 
after  a  time,  on  the  opposite  side  of  the  Common,  at 
Woolwich,  close  to  the  entrance  of  what  is  called  the 
Eepository.*  She  saw  there,  as  is  usual,  a  sentrj^,  and 
narrow^ly  observed  his  uniform  and  appearance.  From 
his  careless  manner,  she  felt  sure  that,  though  she  seemed 
to  herself  to  be  standing  near  him,  he  did  not  perceive 
her.  Then,  first  passing  to  the  arsenal,  where  she  saw 
another  sentinel,  she  returned  to  the  barracks,  and  there 
heard  the  clock  strike  three.  Immediately  after  this  she 
found  herself  in  the  bedchamber  of  an  intimate  friend, 

*  A  storehouse  of  arms  and  ammunition. 


THB  SEQUEL.  858 

Miss  L M ,  then  residing  at  Greenwich.     With 

her  she  seemed  to  commence  a  conversation,  but  iti 
purport  she  did  not  afterward  distinctly  recolleci;  for 
soon  after  it  began  she  was  conscious  of  seeing  and 
hearing  nothing  more. 

ller  first  words  on  awaking  next  morning  were, 
*'So  I  am  not  dead,  after,  all?"  When  her  husband 
|iostioned  her  as  to  the  meaning  of  so  strange  an  excla- 
mation, she  related  to  him  the  vision  (if  vision  it  was) 
of  the  night. 

The  above  occurred  during  a  Wednesday  night ;  and 

^hey  expected  Miss  L M on  a  visit  on  the  next 

Friday.  The  husband  exacted  from  his  wife  a  promise 
that  she  would  not  write  to,  or  in  any  way  communicate 
with,  this  young  lady  in  the  mean  time;  and  she  gave 
him  her  word  of  honor  to  that  effect. 

So  far  there  appeared  to  be  nothing  beyond  an  ordi- 
nary phenomenon,  such  as  constantly  occurs  during 
sleep.  It  is  not,  indeed,  customary  to  dream  of  seeing 
oneself;  but  who  shall  set  limits  to  the  vagaries  of  the 
sleeping  fancy  ? 

The  sequel,  however,  contains  the  puzzle,  and,  some 
may  think,  one  of  those  explanatory  hints  that  are 
worth  noting  and  reflecting  on. 

Colonel  A was  in  company  with  his  wife  when, 

on  the  next  Friday,  she  met  her  friend,  Miss  L 

M .     It  ought  to  be  stated  that  this  lady  has  from 

her  childhood  habitually  seen  apparitions.  No  allusion 
whatever  was  made  to  the  subject  uppermost  in  their 
thoughts ;  and  after  a  while  they  all  three  walked  out 
into  the  garden.     There  the  two  ladies  began  conversing 

about  a  new  bonnet;    and  Mrs.  A said,  ^'My  last 

was  trimmed  with  violet;  and  I  like  the  color  so  much  I 
think  I  shall  select  it  again."     "  Yes,"  her  friend  replied, 

"I  know  that  is  your  color."     "How  sor"  Mrs.  A 

lisked.  "  Because  when  you  came  to  me  the  other 
X  so* 


864  NOT   EXPECTANT   ATTENTION. 

night — let  me  see :  when  was  it  ? — ah,  I  remember,  the 
night  before  last — it  was  robed  in  violet  that  you  ap- 
peared to  me."  "  I  appeared  to  you  the  other  night  ?" 
"  Yes,  about  three  o'clock ;  and  we  had  quite  a  conver- 
sation together.     Have  you  no  recollection  of  it  ?" 

This  was  deemed  conclusive,  both  by  husband  and 
wife,  in  proof  that  something  beyond  the  usual  hypo- 
thesis of  dreaming  fancy  was  necessary  to  explain  the 
visionary  excursion  to  Woolwich. 

This  is  the  only  time  that  any  similar  occurrence  has 

happened  to  Mrs.  Colonel  A .     Her  husband  is  now 

in  India,  a  brigadier-general;  and  she  has  often  ear- 
nestly longed  that  her  spirit  might  be  permitted,  during 
the  watches  of  the  night,  to  visit  him  there.  For  a 
time,  encouraged  by  what  had  already  happened,  she 
expected  this.  But  longing  and  expectation  have  proved 
alike  unavailing.  Unthought  of,  unwished  for,  the  phe- 
nomenon came;  earnestly  desired,  fondly  expected,  it 
failed  to  appear.  Expectant  attention,  then,  is  evidently 
not  the  explanation  in  this  case. 

It  was  related  to  me  in  February,  1859,  by  the  one 
lady,  the  nightly  visitant,  and  confirmed  to  me,  a  few 
days  afterward,  by  the  other,  the  receiver  of  the  visit. 

Eesembling  in  its  general  character  the  Wilkins  dream, 
the  above  differs  from  it  chiefly  in  this,  that  the  narrator 
appears  to  have  observed  more  minutely  the  succession 
of  her  sensations;  thus  suggesting  to  us  the  idea  that 
the  apparently  lifeless  body  which  seemed  to  her  to 
remain  behind  might,  for  the  time,  have  parted  with 
what  we  may  call  a  spiritual  portion  of  itself;*  which 

♦  Dr.  Kerner  relates  that  on  the  28th  of  May,  1827,  about  three  o'clock 
In  the  afternoon,  being  with  Madame  Hauffe,  who  was  ill  in  bed  at  the  time, 
that  lady  suddenly  perceived  the  appearance  of  herself,  seated  in  a  chair> 
v»earing  a  white  dress;  not  that  which  she  then  wore,  but  another  belonging 
to  her.    She  endeavored  to  cry  out,  but  could  neither  speak  nor  move.    Uer 


THB   WRAITH  355 

portion,  moving  off  without  the  usual  means  of*  loco- 
motion, might  make  itself  perceptible,  at  a  certain  dis- 
tance, to  another  person. 

Let  him  who  may  pronounce  this  a  fantastical  hy- 
pothesis, absurd  on  its  face,  suggest  some  other  sufficient 
to  explain  the  phenomenon  we  are  here  examining. 

This  phenomenon,  whatever  its  exact  character,  is 
evidently  the  same  as  that  which,  under  the  name  of 
wraith,  has  for  centuries  formed  one  of  the  chief  items 
in  what  are  usually  considered  the  superstitions  of  Scot- 
land. In  that  country  it  is  popularly  regarded  as  a 
forewarning  of  death.*  This,  doubtless,  is  a  superstition ; 
and  by  the  aid  of  the  preceding  examples  one  may 
rationally  conjecture  how  it  originated. 

The  indications  are : — 

That  during  a  dream  or  a  trance,  partial  or  complete, 
the  counterpart  of  a  living  person  may  show  itself,  at 
a  greater  or  less  distance  from  where  that  person  actu- 
ally is. 

And  that,  as  a  general  rule,  with  probable  exceptions, 
this  counterpart  appears  where  the  thoughts  or  the 
affections,  strongly  excited,  may  be  supposed  to  be.f 

eyes  remained  wide  open  and  fixed;  but  she  saw  nothing  except  the  appear- 
ance and  the  chair  on  which  it  sat  After  a  time  she  saw  the  figure  rise 
nud  approiich  her.  Then,  tkA  it  came  quite  close  to  her,  she  experienced 
what  seemed  an  electric  shock,  the  efiect  of  which  was  perceptible  to  Dr. 
Kerner;  and,  with  a  sudden  cry,  she  regained  the  power  of  speech,  and 
related  what  she  had  seen  and  felt.  Dr.  Kerner  saw  nothing. — Seherin  von 
Prevortit,  pp.  138,  139. 

*  "  Barbara  MacPherson,  Relict  of  the  deceast  Mr.  Alexander  MacLeod, 
'.ate  Minister  of  St.  Kilda,  informed  me  the  Natives  of  that  Island  have  a 
particular  kind  of  Second  Sight,  which  is  always  a  Forerunner  of  their 
approaching  End.  Some  Months  before  they  sicken,  they  are  haunted 
with  an  Apparition  resembling  themselves  in  all  Respects,  as  to  their 
Person,  Features,  or  Cloathing." — Tieati$e  on  Second  Siyht,  Dreamt,  and 
Apparitions,  Edinburgh,  1763,  by  THeoPHiLrs  Insulanus,  Relation  X. 

\  "  Examples  have  come  to  my  knowledge  in  which  sick  persons,  OYtr* 


856  INDICATIONS. 

In  the  case  of  Mary  Goffe*  the  type  is  very  distinct. 
iTers  was  that  uncontrollable  yearning  which  a  mother 
only  knows.  "  If  I  cannot  sit,  I  will  lie  all  along  upon 
the  horse;  for  I  must  go  to  see  my  poor  babes."     So 

when  the  thoughts  of    Mrs.  E ,  dying  in  London, 

reverted  to  her  infant,  then  lying  in  its  coffin  in  Cam- 
bridgeshire. So,  again,  when  the  Irish  clergyman  went 
to  dine  with  his  bishop,  leaving  his  wife  sick  at  home, 
and  she  seemed  to  come  forth  to  meet  the  returning 
absentee.  To  the  apprentice,  the  probable  murderer, 
we  cannot  ascribe  vvhat  merits  the  name  of  affection. 
But  we  can  imagine  with  what  terrible  vividness  his 
feelings  and  apprehensions  may  have  dwelt,  throughout 
the  protracted  Scottish  church-service,  on  the  spot  where 
lay  the  body  of  his  victim  and  of  his  unborn  child. 

Less  distinctly  marked  are  some  of  the  other  cases, 
as  that  of  Joseph  Wilkins,  not  specially  anxious  about 
his  mother;  the  Indiana  bridegroom,  Hugh,  separated 
but  an  hour  or  two  from  his  bride;  the  servant-boy, 
-Silas, gone  a-fishing;  finally,  Mrs.  A ,  with  no  prompt- 
ing motive  more  than  the  ordinary  wish  to  visit  a  friend. 
In  some  of  these  cases,  it  will  be  observed,  death  speed- 
ily followed;  in  others  it  did  not.  Joseph  Wilkins  lived 
forty-five  years  after  his  dream.     Hugh  survived   his 

wife.    Silas  is  alive,  a  prosperous  tradesman.   Mrs.  A 

still  lives,  in  excellent  health.  It  is  evident  that  a 
speedy  death  does  not  necessarily  follow  such  an  appa- 
rition. 

The  reasons  why  it  is  in  many  cases  the  precursor  of 
death  probably  are,  that  during  a  fatal  illness  the  patient 
frequently  falls  into  a  state  of  trance,  favorable,  in  all 
probability,  to  such  a  phenomenon  ;  then,  again,  that,  in 

come  with  an  unspeakable  longing  to  see  some  absent  friend,  have  fallen 
'into  a  swoon,  and  during  that  swoon  have  a})peared,  to  the  distant  object  of 
their  afifection." — Jung  Stilling:  Theorie  der  Oeiawkunde,  g  100. 
t  Chapter  on  Dreams. 


THE    BEST   CURE    FOR   SUPERSTITION.  857 

anticipation  of  death,  the  thoup^hts  recur  with  peculiar 
liveliness  to  absent  objects  of  affection;  and,  finally, 
perhaps,  that  the  spiritual  princii^le,  soon  to  be  wholly 
freed  from  its  fleshly  incumbrance,  may,  as  it  approaches 
the  moment  of  entire  release,  the  more  readily  be  able 
to  stray  off  for  a  time,  determined  in  its  course  by  the 
guiding  influence  of  sympathy. 

But  it  is  evident  that  the  vicinity  of  death  is  not 
needed  to  confer  this  power,  and  that  anxiety,  arising 
from  other  cause  than  the  anticipation  of  approaching 
dissolution,  may  induce  it.  A  tempest  aroused  the  fears 
of  the  mother  for  her  son  on  the  Bremen  packet.  She 
appeared  to  him  in  his  cabin.  Yet  both  mother  and 
son  are  alive  at  this  day. 

In  this,  as  in  a  hundred  other  cases,  the  dispassionate 
examination  of  an  actual  phenomenon,  and  of  its  pro- 
bable cause,  is  the  most  effectual  cure  for  superstitious 
excite  mem  and  vulgar  fears. 


CHAPTER  III. 

APPARITIONS    OF   THE   DEAD. 

"  Dare  I  say 

No  spirit  ever  brake  the  band 
That  stays  him  from  the  native  land 

Where  first  he  walked  when  clasped  in  clay  ? 

**  No  visual  shade  of  rome  one  lost, 
But  he,  the  spirit  himself,  may  come, 
"Where  all  the  nerve  of  rense  is  dumb, 

Spirit  to  spirit,  ghost  to  ghost." — Tenntson. 

ir,  as  St.  Paul  teaches  and  Swedenborgians  believe, 
there  go  to  make  up  the  personality  of  man  a  natural 
body  and  a  spiritual  body;*  if  these  co-exist,  while 
earthly  life  endures,  in  each  one  of  us ;  if,  as  the  apostle 
further  intimatesf  and  the  preceding  chapter  seems  to 
prove,  the  spiritual  body — a  counterpart,  it  would  seem, 
to  human  sight,  of  the  natural  body — may,  during  life, 
occasionally  detach  itself,  to  some  extent  or  other  and 
for  a  time,  from  the  material  flesh  and  blood  which  for 
a  few  years  it  pervades  in  intimate  association ;  and  if 
death  be  but  the  issuing  forth  of  the  spiritual  body  from 
its  temporary  associate;  then,  at  the  moment  of  its,  exit, 
it  is  that  spiritual  body  which  through  life  may  have 
been  occasionally  and  partial'y  detached  from  the  natu- 
ral body,  and  which  at  last  is  thus  entirely  and  forever 


♦  1  Corinthians  xv.  44.  The  phrase  is  not,  "  a  natural  body  and  a  apu 
r*t ;"  it  is  expressly  said,  "  There  is  a  natural  body,  and  there  is  a  spiritual 
body." 

f  2  Corinthians  xiu  2. 
358 


THEORY   AND    FACT  859 

divorced  from  it,  that  passes  into  another  state  of  exist- 
ence. 

But  if  that  spiritual  body,  while  still  connected  with 
its  earthly  associate,  could,  under  certain  circumstances, 
appear,  distinct  and  distant  from  the  natural  body,  and 
perceptible  to  human  vision,  if  not  to  human  touch, 
what  strong  presumption  is  there  against  the  supposi- 
tion that  after  its  final  emancipation  the  same  spiritual 
body  may  still  at  times  show  itself  to  man  ?* 

If  there  be  no  such  adverse  presumption,  then  we 
ought  to  approach  the  subject,  not  as  embodying  some 
wild  vagary  barel}^  worth  noticing,  just  within  the  verge 
of  possibility,  but  as  a  respectable  and  eminently  serious 
question,  worthy  of  our  gravest  attention,  and  as  to 
which,  let  us  decide  as  we  will,  there  is  much  to  be  said 
on  both  sides  before  reaching  a  decision. 

Nor  is  an  apparition  of  the  dead  a  phenomenon  (or 
alleged  phenomenon)  of  which  the  reality  can  be  settled, 
affirmatively  or  negatively,  by  speculation  in  the  closet. 
A  hundred  theorists,  thus  speculating,  may  decide,  to 
their  own  satisfaction,  that  it  ought  not  to  be,  or  that  it 
cannot  be.  But  if  sufficient  observation  show  that  it  is, 
it  only  follows  that  these  closet  theorists  had  no  correct 
conception  of  the  proper  or  the  possible. 

*  The  Rev.  George  Strahan,  D.D.,  in  bis  preface  to  his  collection  of  the 
'*  Prayers  and  Mtdltationa"  of  bis  friend  Dr.  Samuel  Johnson,  (London, 
1785,)  has  the  following  passage  : — 

"  The  improbability  arising  from  rarity  of  occurrence  or  singularity  of 
nature  amounts  to  no  disproof:  it  is  a  presumptive  reason  of  doubt  too 
feeble  to  withstand  the  conviction  induced  by  positive  credible  testimony, 
such  as  that  which  has  been  borne  to  shadowy  reappearances  of  the  dead." 
.  .  .  *'  One  true  report  that  a  spirit  has  been  seen  may  give  occasion  and 
birth  to  many  false  reports  of  similar  incidents ;  but  universal  and  uncon- 
certed  testimony  to  a  supernatural  casualty  cannot  always  be  untrue.  An 
appearing  spirit  is  a  prodigy  too  singular  in  its  nature  to  become  a  subject 
of  general  invention."  ..."  To  a  mind  not  influenced  by  popular  preju- 
dice,  it  will  be  scarcely  possible  to  believe  that  apparitions  would  have  bees 
vouched  for  in  all  countries  bad  they  never  been  seen  in  any," 


?.60  APPARITIONS   AND    AEROLITES. 

It  was  in  the  field,  not  in  the  closet,  that  the  question 
was  decided  whether  aerolites  occasionally  fall  upon  our 
earth.  Chladni  and  Howard  might  have  theorized  over 
their  desks  for  a  lifetime :  they  would  have  left  the 
question  open  still.  But  they  went  out  into  the  world. 
They  themselves  saw  no  aerolite  fall.  But  they  in- 
spected meteoric  masses  said  to  have  fallen.  They  mad<i 
out  lists  of  these.  They  examined  witnesses;  they  col- 
lected evidence.  And  finally  they  convinced  the  world 
of  scientific  skeptics  that  the  legends  in  regard  to  falling 
stones  which  have  been  current  in  all  ages,  ever  since 
the  days  of  Socrates,  were  something  more  than  fabu- 
lous tales. 

I  propose,  in  prosecuting  a  more  important  inquiry, 
to  follow  the  example  of  Chladni  and  Howard,  with 
what  success  time  and  the  event  must  determine. 

Innumerable  examples  may  be  met  with  of  persons 
w^ho  allege  that  they  have  seen  apparitions, — among 
these,  men  eminent  for  intelligence  and  uprightness.  A 
noted  example  is  that  of  Oberlin,  the  well-known 
Alsatian  philanthropist,  the  benevolent  pastor  of  Ban- 
de-la-Eoche. 

He  was  visited,  two  years  before  his  death, — namely, 
in  1824, — by  a  Mr.  Smithson,  who  published  an  account 
of  his  visit.*  Thence  are  gleaned  the  following  par- 
ticulars. 


The  valley  of  Ban-de-la-Eoche,  or  Steinthal,  in  Alsace, 
the  scene  for  more  than  fifty  3'ears  of  Oberlin's  labors 
of  love,  surrounded  by  lofty  mountains,  is  for  more  than 
half  the  year  cut  off  from  the  rest  of  the  world  by  snows 
obstructing  the  passes. 

•  "  InteUeetual  BepotiUm^  for  April,  1840,  pp.  151  to  162. 


OBERLIN.  36 I 

There  Oberlin  found  the  peasantry  with  very  peculiar 
opinions.  He  said  to  Mr.  Smithson  that  when  he  first 
came  to  reside  among  the  inhabitants  of  Steinthal  they 
had  what  he  then  considered  "  many  superstitious  no- 
tions respecting  the  proximity  of  the  spiritual  world, 
and  of  the  appearance  of  various  objectf^and  phenomena 
in  that  world,  which  from  time  to  time  were  seen  by 
some  of  the  people  belonging  to  his  flock.  For  instance, 
it  was  not  unusual  for  a  person  who  had  died  to  appear 
to  some  individual  in  the  valley."  .  .  .  **The  report  of 
every  new  occurrence  of  this  kind  was  brought  to  Ober- 
lin, who  at  length  became  so  much  annoyed  that  ho  was 
resolved  to  put  down  this  species  of  superstition,  as  he 
called  it,  from  the  pulpit,  and  exerted  himself  for  a  con- 
siderable time  to  this  end,  but  with  little  or  no  desirable 
effect.  Cases  became  more  numerous,  and  the  circum- 
stances so  striking  as  even  to  stagger  the  skepticism  of 
Oberlin  himself"  (p.  157.) 

Ultimately  the  pastor  came  over  to  the  opinions  of 
his  parishioners  in  this  matter.  And  when  Mr.  Smith- 
son  asked  him  what  had  worked  such  conviction,  he  re- 
plied "  that  he  himself  had  had  ocular  and  demonstrative 
experience  respecting  these  important  subjects."  He 
added  that  "  he  had  a  large  pile  of  papers  which  he  had 
written  on  this  kind  of  spiritual  phenomena,  containing 
the  facts,  with  his  own  reflections  upon  them."  (p.  158.) 
He  stated  further  to  Mr.  Smithson  that  such  apparitions 
were  particularly  frequent  after  that  well-known  and 
terrible  accident  which  buried  several  villages,  (the  fall 
of  the  Eossberg,  in  1806.)  Soon  after,  as  Oberlin  ex- 
pressed it,  a  considerable  number  of  the  inhabitants  of 
the  valley  "had  their  spiritual  eyesight  opened"  (p.  159) 
and  perceived  the  apparitions  of  many  of  the  sufferers. 

Stober,  the  pupil  and  biographer  of  Oberlin,  and 
throughout  his  life  the  intimate,  friend  of  the  family, 
stales  that  the  good  pastor  was  fully  persuaded  of  the 


.^62  oberlin's  belief  in 

actual  presence  of  his  wife  for  several  years  after  hei 
decease.  His  unswerving  conviction  was  that,  like  an 
attendant  angel,  she  watched  over  him,  held  com- 
munion with  him,  and  was  visible  to  his  sight;  that  she 
instructed  him  respecting  the  other  world  and  guarded 
him  from  danger  in  this;  that,  when  he  contemplated 
any  new  plan  of  utility,  in  regard  to  the  results  of 
which  he  was  uncertain,  she  either  encouraged  his 
eiforts  or  checked  him  in  his  project.  He  considered 
his  interviews  with  her  not  as  a  thing  to  be  doubted, 
but  as  obvious  and  certain, — as  certain  as  any  event 
that  is  witnessed  with  the  bodily  eyes.  When  asked 
how  he  distinguished  her  appearance  and  her  com- 
munications from  dreams,  he  replied,  "How  do  you  dis- 
tinguish one  color  from  another?"* 

I  myself  met,  when  in  Paris,  during  the  month  of 
May,  1859,  Monsieur  Matter,  a  French  gentleman 
holding  an  important  official  position  in  the  Depart- 
ment of  Public  Instruction,  who  had  visited  Oberlin 
some  time  before  his  death,  and  to  whom  the  worthy 
pastor  submitted  the  "  large  pile  of  piapers"  referred  to 
by  Mr.  Smithson.-|-  He  found  it  to  contain,  among 
other  things,  a  narrative  of  a  series  of  apparitions  of 
his  deceased  wife,  and  of  his  interviews  with  her.J 

Monsieur  Matter,  who  kindly  furnished  me  with 
notes,  in  writing,  on  this  matter,  adds,  "Oberlin  was 
convinced  that  the  inhabitants  of  the  invisible  world 
can  appear  to  us,  and  we  to  them,  when  God  wills ;  and 
that  we  are  apparitions  to  them,  as  they  to  us."§ 

Neither  the  intelligence  nor  the  good  faith  of  Oberlin 

*  «  Vie  de  J.  F.  Oberlin,"  par  Stober,  p.  223. 

t  The  manuscript  was  entitled  "  Journal  dea  Apparitions  et  Inatructiont 
par  Hives." 

X  Entretiena  was  the  word  employed. 

I  This  appears  to  have  been  the  opinion  of  Jung  Stilling,  with  whav 
Oberlin  was  well  acquainted.     See  "  Tkeorie  der  Oeiaterhunde,  *  ^  3. 


REGARD   TO   APPARITIONS.  365 

can  be  called  in  question.  But  it  will  be  said  that  in- 
telligence and  honesty  are  no  security  against  halluci- 
nation, and  that  the  pastor,  in  his  secluded  valley,  after 
the  loss  of  a  wife  whom  he  tenderly  loved,  might  gra- 
dually have  become  infected  with  the  superstitions  of  his 
parishioners.  Although  the  opinions  of  such  a  man  as 
Oberlin  must  ever  count  for  something,  yet  it  is  to  be 
admitted  that  we  have  not  the  means  of  disproving 
such  surmises  as  these. 

We  need  some  circumstantial  link,  connecting  the 
alleged  apparition  with  the  material  world.  Can  we 
obtain  such? 

The  following  is  from  a  respectable  source : — 

LORENZO  THE  MAGNIFICENT  AND  THE  IMPROVISATORE. 
"Condivi  relates  an  extraordinary  story  respecting 
Piero  de'  Medici,  (son  of  Lorenzo  'the  Magnificent,') 
communicated  to  him  by  Michael  Angelo,  who  had,  it 
seems,  formed  an  intimacy  with  one  Cardiere,  an  im- 
provisatore  that  frequented  the  house  of  Lorenzo  and 
amused  his  evenings  with  singing  to  the  lute.  Soon 
after  the  death  of  Lorenzo,  Cardiere  informed  Michael 
Angelo  that  Lorenzo  had  appeared  to  him,  habited 
only  in  a  black  and  ragged  mantle  thrown  over  his 
naked  limbs,  and  had  ordered  him  to  acquaint  Piero 
de'  Medici  that  he  would  in  a  short  time  be  banished 
from  Florence.  Cardiere,  who  seems  judiciously  to 
have  feared  the  resentment  of  the  living  more  than  of 
the  dead,  declined  the  office;  but  soon  afterward  Lo- 
renzo, entering  his  chamber  at  midnight,  awoke  him, 
and,  reproaching  him  with  his  inattention,  gave  him  a 
violent  blow  on  the  cheek.  Having  communicated  this 
second  visit  to  his  friend,  who  advised  him  no  longer  to 
delay  his  errand,  he  set  out  for  Careggi,  where  Piero 
then   resided;   but,  meeting   bim  with   bis  attendants 


864  TttE   CARDINAL   AND    MR.  GROSE. 

about  midway  between  that  place  and  Florence,  he 
there  delivered  his  message,  to  the  great  amusement  of 
Piero  and  his  followers,  one  of  whom — Bernardo 
Divizio,  afterward  Cardinal  da  Bibbiena — sarcastically 
asked  him  *  whether,  if  Lorenzo  had  been  desirous  of 
giving  information  to  his  son,  it  was  likely  he  would 
have  preferred  such  a  messenger  to  a  personal  com- 
munication.* The  biographer  adds,  '  La  vision  del 
Cardiere,  o  delusion  diabolica,  o  predizion  divina,  o  forte 
iramaij;inazione,  ch'ella  si  fosse,  si  verifico.'  "* 

Here  is  an  alleged  prediction  and  its  fulfillment.  But 
the  course  of  policy  pursued  by  Piero  was  such  that  it 
needed  not  prophetic  instinct  to  discern  the  probability 
that  he  might  one  day  lose  his  position  in  Florence. 
On  the  other  hand,  those  who  know  Italian  society  will 
feel  assured  that  a  dependant  like  Cardiere  was  not 
likely  to  venture  on  such  a  liberty, unless  driven  to  it 
by  what  he  thought  an  actual  injunction. 

As  to  the  cardinal's  objection,  it  is  a  common  one, 
often  flippantly  expressed.  "It  is  somewhat  remark- 
able," says  Mr.  Grose,  "that  ghosts  do  not  go  about 
their  business  like  persons  of  this  world.  In  cases  of 
murder,  a  ghost,  instead  of  going  to  the  next  justice 
of  the  peace  and  laying  its  information,  or  to  the 
nearest  relation  of  the  person  murdered,  appears  to 
some  poor  laborer  who  knows  none  of  the  parties, 
draws  the  curtains  of  some  decrepit  nurse  or  alms- 
woman,  or  hovers  about  the  place  where  his  body  is 
deposited."f 


*  "The  vision  of  Cardiere,  be  it  diabolical  delusion,  or  divine  fore- 
warning, or  vivid  imagination,  was  verified."  Tbe  anecdote  is  extracted 
from   "  The  Life  of  Lorenzo  de'  Medici,"  by  William  Roscoe,  cbap   10. 

f  "Provincial  Glmaary  and  Popular  Superstitiom,"  by  Francis  Qross, 
Bs^.y  F.A.&»  2d  ed.>  Uadon,  1796,  p.  10; 


ANNA    MARIA    PORTER.  365 

If  the  cardinal  or  the  antiquary  merit  a  scrioua 
answer,  it  is  this:  If  the  appearance  of  apparitions  be 
an  actual  phenomenon,  it  is  without  doubt,  regulated  by 
Komc  general  law.  And,  to  judge  from  the  examples  on 
record,  it  would  seem  that,  under  that  law,  it  is  only 
rarely,  under  certain  conditions  and  to  certain  persons, 
that  such  appearance  is  possible. 

Somewhat  more  remarkable  is  the  coincidence  in  the 
following  case : — 

ANNA  MARIA  PORTER'S  VISITOR. 

When  the  celebrated  Miss  Anna  Maria  Porter  was 
residing  at  Esher,  in  Surre3%  an  aged  gentleman  of  her 
acquaintance,  who  lived  in  the  same  village,  was  in  the 
habit  of  frequenting  her  house,  usually  making  his  ajv 
pearance  every  evening,  reading  the  newspaper,  and 
taking  his  cup  of  tea. 

One  evening  Miss  Porter  saw  him  enter  as  usual  and 
seat  himself  at  the  table,  but  without  speaking.  She 
addressed  some  remark  to  him,  to  which  he  made  no 
reply;  and,  after  a  few  seconds,  she  saw  him  rise  and 
leave  the  room  without  uttering  a  word. 

Astonished,  and  fearing  that  he  might  have  been  sud- 
denly taken  ill,  she  instantly  sent  her  servant  to  his 
house  to  make  inquiries.  The  reply  was,  that  the  old 
gentleman  had  died  suddenly  about  an  hour  before. 

This  was  related  by  Miss  Porter  herself  to  Colonel 

H ,  of   the   Second   Life   Guards,    and   by  Colonel 

II 's  widow  repeated  to  me,  in  London,  during  the 

month  of  February,  1859. 

Unless  we  imagine,  in  this  case,  an  escape  from  the 
nurse's  care  resembling  that  of  the  member  of  the 
Plymouth  Club  in  the  example  already  cited  from 
Sir  Walter  Scott,*  it  is  difficult  to  avoid  the  conclusion 


*  S«e  chapter  on  Dreams. 
31* 


366      THE  DEAD  BODY  AND  THE  BOAT-CLOAK. 

that  this  was  an  apparition  of  the  dead.  Miss  Porter 
herself  believed  it  such;  and  it  appears  that  she  had 
sent  immediately,  and  that  the  old  gentleman  had  died 
an  hour  before. 

It  will  be  admitted  that  the  following  is  quite  as  diffi- 
cult  to  explain  away. 

THE  DEAD  BODY  AND  THE  BOAT-CLOAK. 
We  shall  not  find,  in  any  other  class  of  society,  so 
Dcnsitive  an  aversion  to  be  taxed  with  any  thing  that 
may  be  construed  into  superstition  as  in  the  fashionable 
man  of  the  world.  For  that  reason  the  following,  from 
the  private  diary  of  such  a  one,  who  passed  his  life  in 
the  most  aristocratic  circles  of  London  and  Paris,  the 
intimate  of  nobles  and  princes  of  the  blood,  is  the  rather 
entitled  to  credit.  The  reserve  with  which  such  narra- 
tives are  communicated,  when  the  subjects  belong  to  what 
is  called  good  society,  is  evinced  by  the  substitution  of 
initials  for  the  full  names.  The  narrative  is  communi- 
cated in  the  most  direct  manner  by  One  who  had  the 
best  opportunities  of  knowing  the  exact  facts  of  the  case. 

"  Wednesday,  December  26,  1832. — Captain  re- 
counted a  curious  anecdote  that  had  happened  in  his 
own  famil}'.     He  told  it  in  the  following  words: — 

"It  is  now  about  fifteen  months  ago  that  Miss  M , 

a  connection  of  my  family,  went  with  a  party  of  friends 
to  a  concert  at  the  Argyle  rooms.  She  appeared  there 
to  be  suddenly  seized  with  indisposition,  and,  though 
she  persisted  for  some  time  to  struggle  against  what 
seemed  a  violent  nervous  afi*ection,  it  became  at  last  so 
oppressive  that  they  were  obliged  to  send  for  their 
cari'iage  and  conduct  her  home.  She  was  for  a  long 
time  unwilling  tO  say  what  was  the  ca  ise  of  her  indis- 
position; but,  on  being  more  earnestly  questioned,  sho 


AJPPARITION    IN    INDIA.  367 

at  length  confessed  that  she  had,  immediately  on  ar- 
riving in  the  concert-room,  been  terrified  by  a  horrible 
vision,  which  unceasingly  presented  itself  to  her  sight. 
It  seemed  to  her  as  though  a  naked  corpse  was  lying  on 
the  floor  at  her  feet;  the  features  of  the  face  were  partly 
covered  by  a  cloth  mantle,  but  enough  was  apparent  to 

convince  her  that  the  body  was  that  of  Sir  J Y . 

Every  effort  was  made  by  her  friends  at  the  time  to 
tranquilize  her  mind  by  representing  the  folly  of  allow- 
ing such  delusions  to  prey  upon  her  spirits,  and  she 
thus  retired  to  bed;  but  on  the  following  day  the  family 

received  the  tidings  of  Sir  J Y having  been 

drowned  in  Southampton  River  that  very  night  by  the 
oversetting  of  his  boat;  and  the  body  was  afterwards 
found  entangled  in  a  boat-cloak.  Here  is  an  authenticated 
case  of  second-sight,  and  of  very  recent  date."* 

For  the  following  I  am  indebted  to  the  kindness  of 
my  friend  Dr.  Ashburner,  of  London. 

APPARITION   IN   INDIA. 

"In  the  year  1814  I  became  acquainted  with  Colonel 
Nathan  Wilson,  a  man  of  strong  intellectual  powers, 
who  had  served  many  years  in  India  under  Sir  Arthur 
Welleslcy,  afterward  Duke  of  Wellington.  I  was  intro- 
duced to  him  by  Sir  Charles  Forbes,  at  a  shooting-lodge 
at  Strathdon,  and  there  we  had  an  opportunity  of  be- 
coming intimate.  I  had,  from  his  own  lips,  the  narra- 
tive I  am  about  to  relate  to  you,  and  which  I  may 
preface  by  a  few  words  touching  the  opinions  of  the 
narrator. 

•'Colonel  Wilson  made  no  secret  of  his  atheism.  In 
India  especially,  as  I  have  myself  observed,  the  t<jn- 

*"A  Portion  of  the  Journal  kept  by  Th  *ma9  Raike*,  E»q.,  from  1831  (• 
1847."  2d  ed.,  London,  1856,  vol.  L  p.  13L 


368  ANECDOTE  VOUCHED  FOR 

dency  ot  many  minds,  influenced  by  considering  the 
great  diversities  of  religious  belief  around  them,  is 
toward  skepticism.  Colonel  Wilson,  fortified  by  the 
perusal  of  Volney,  D'Holbach,  Helvetius,  Voltaire,  and 
others  of  similar  stamp,  rejected,  as  untenable,  the  doc- 
trine of  a  future  state  of  existence,  and  even  received 
with  some  impatience  any  arguments  on  a  subject  as 
to  which,  he  seemed  to  think,  no  one  could  any  further 
enlighten  him. 

"  In  the  year  1811,  being  then  in  command  of  tho 
19th  regiment  of  dragoons,*  stationed  at  Tellicheny, 
and  delighting  in  French  literature,  he  formed  an  inti- 
macy with  Monsieur  Dubois,  a  Eoman  Catholic  mission- 
ary priest,  an  ardent  and  zealous  propagandist  and 
an  accomplished  man.  Notwithstanding  the  gi*eat  dif- 
ference in  their  creeds,  so  earnest  and  yet  liberal-minded 
was  the  Frenchman,  so  varied  his  store  of  information, 
and  so  agreeable  and  winning  his  manner,  that  the  mis- 
sionary and  the  soldier  associated  much  together,  and 
finally  formed  a  strong  attachment  to  each  other.  The 
former  did  not  fail  to  avail  himself  of  this  intimacy  by 
endeavoring  to  bring  about  the  conversion  of  his  friend. 
They  conversed  often  and  freely  on  religious  subjects; 
but  Colonel  Wilson's  skepticism  remained  unshaken. 

"In  July,  1811,  the  priest  fell  ill,  much  to  the  regret 
of  the  little  circle  at  Tellicherry,  where  he  was  greatly 
beloved.  At  the  same  time,  a  mutiny  having  broken 
out  at  Yellore,  Colonel  Wilson  was  summoned  thither, 
and,  proceeding  by  forced  marches,  encamped  on  an 
extensive  plain  before  the  town. 

"Tho  night  was  sultrj^;  and  Colonel  Wilson,  arrayed 
as  is  common  in  that  climate,  in  shirt  and  long  light 
calico  drawers  with  feet,  sought  repose  on  a  couch 
within   his  tent;   but   in   vain.     Unable   to   sleep,  his 

♦  Or  possibly  the  17th  dragoons;  for  he  had  comroaadftd  both. 


BY    DR.  ASHBUKNER.  8o9 

attention  wa8  suddenly  attracted  to  the  eninvncc  of  his 
tent:  ho  saw  the  purdah  raised  and  the  priest  Dubois 
present  himself.  The  pale  face  and  earnest  demeanor 
of  his  friend,  who  stood  silent  and  motionless,  riveted 
his  attention.  He  called  him  by  name,  but  without 
reply:  the  purdah  fell,  and  the  figure  had  disap- 
peared. 

"The  colonel  sprang  up,  and,  hastily  donning  his  slip- 
pers, rushed  from  the  tent.  The  appearance  was  still 
in  sight,  gliding  through  the  camp,  and  making  for  the 
plain  beyond.  Colonel  Wilson  hastened  after  it,  and  at 
80  rapid  a  pace  that  when  his  brother  officers,  roused 
by  the  sentries,  went  in  pursuit  of  him,  it  was  with  diffi- 
culty he  was  overtaken.  The  apparition  having  been 
seen  by  Captain  Wilson  only,  his  comrades  concluded 
that  it  was  the  effect  of  slight  delirium  produced  by 
fatigue.  But  when  the  surgeon  of  the  regiment  felt 
the  colonel's  pulse,  he  declared  that  it  beat  steadily, 
without  acceleration. 

"Colonel  Wilson  felt  assured  that  he  had  received  au 
intimation  of  the  death  of  his  friend  the  missionary, 
who  had  repeatedly  promised,  in  case  he  died  first,  to 
appear  to  him  as  a  spirit.  He  requested  his  brother 
officers  to  note  the  time.  They  did  so ;  and  when  sub- 
sequent letters  from  Tellicherry  announced  the  decease 
of  Dubois,  it  was  found  that  he  had  died  at  the  very 
hour  when  his  likeness  appeared  to  his  friend. 

"Desirous  to  ascertain  what  effect  this  apparition  had 
produced  on  Colonel  Wilson's  opinions  touching  a  future 
state,  I  put  the  question  directly  to  him.  *I  think  it  a 
very  curious  phenomenon,*  he  replied,  ^not  to  be  ac- 
counted for  in  the  present  state  of  our  knowledge,  and 
requiring  investigation.  But  it  is  not  sufficient  to  alter 
my  convictions.  Some  energetic  projection  from  Du- 
bois's brain,  at  the  moment  of  approaching  annihilation, 
T 


87 )  REMARKS 

might  perhaps  suffice  to  account  for  the  appearance 
which  I  undoubtedly  witnessed.'  '"•' 

Wo  can  scarcely  find  a  stronger  proof  of  the  vivid 
reality,  to  the  observer,  of  this  appearance  than  the 
shift  to  which  he  is  reduced  to  explain  it.  He  "un- 
doubtedly witnessed  it,"  he  tells  us;  but,  he  argues,  "it 
might,  perhaps,  be  a  projection  from  Dubois's  brain  at 
the  moment  of  dissolution."  What  a  perhaps  is  this! 
A  projection  from  the  brain  of  a  dying  man  is  to  appear 
miles  away  from  his  dying  bed,  and,  having  assumed 
human  form,  is  to  imitate  human  locomotion !  What 
sort  of  projection  ?  Not  a  soul  or  a  spiritual  bodj^,  for 
an  atheist  admits  no  such  entities, — nothing  that  inhabits, 
or  is  to  inhabit,  a  future  world  of  w^hich  an  atheist 
denies  the  existence.  What  then  ?  A  portion  of  the 
physical  substance  of  the  brain,  detached  from  it,  and 
shot  off,  like  some  military  projectile,  from  Tellicherry 
to  Yellore  ?  Concede  the  monstrous  assumption.  What 
directs  it  precisely  to  the  friend  to  whom  the  owner  of 
the  brain  had  promised/in  the  event  of  death,  to  appear 
as  a  spirit  ?  But  suppose  it  to  have  arrived  at  Colonel 
Wilson's  tent :  w^hat  gave  a  detached  portion  of  a  brain 
the  power  to  clothe  itself  in  the  complete  form  of  a 
man,  wnth  a  head  and  recognizable  countenance,  with 
arms,  legs,  a  body? — the  power,  too,  to  glide  away  from 
a  person  pursuing  it  ? 

But  it  is  sheer  waste  of  time  to  track  to  its  source 
a  h^^pothesis  so  preposterous  as  this.  In  what  a  maze 
of  absurdity  may  a  man,  reputed  intelligent,  involve 
himself  when  governed  by  a  settled  predetermination 
to  ignore  the  possibility  of  a  future  world,  where  our 


♦  Extracted  from  a  letter  in  my  possession,  addressed  to  me  by  Dr.  Ash- 
burner,  dated  No.  7   Hyde  Park  Place,  London,  March  12,  1859. 


WILLIAM    HOWITT's   NARRATIVE.  371 

spirits   may   hereafter    exist,   and   whence    they   may 
oocasionally  return ! 

Narratives  of  apparitions  at  or  about  the  moment  of 
death  are  perhaps  the  most  frequent  of  any.  For  a 
striking  and  directly  authenticated  example  of  this  class 
I  am  indebted  to  my  friend  William  Howitt,  whose 
name  is  almost  as  familiar  on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic 
as  in  his  own  country.     I  give  it  in  his  own  words. 

THE  BROTHER'S  APPEARANCE  TO  THE  SISTER. 

"The  circumstance  you  desire  to  obtain  from  me  is 
one  which  I  have  many  times  heard  related  by  my 
mother.  It  was  an  event  familiar  to  our  family  and  the 
neighborhood,  and  is  connected  with  my  earliest  memo- 
ries; having  occurred,  about  the  time  of  my  birth,  at 
my  father's  house  at  Heanor,  in  Derbyshire,  where  I 
myself  was  born. 

"My  mother's  family  name,  Tantum,  is  an  uncommon 
one,  which  I  do  not  recollect  to  have  met  with  except 
in  a  story  of  Miss  Leslie's.  My  mother  had  two 
brothers,  Francis  and  Eichard.  The  younger,  Richard, 
I  knew  well,  for  he  lived  to  an  old  age.  The  elder, 
Francis,  was,  at  the  time  of  the  occurrence  I  am  about 
to  report,  a  gay  young  man,  about  twenty,  unmarried; 
handsome,  frank,  affectionate,  and  extremely  beloved  by 
all  classes  throughout  that  part  of  the  country.  He  is 
described,  in  that  age  of  powder  and  pigtails,  as  wearing 
his  auburn  hair  flowing  in  ringlets  on  his  shoulders,  like 
another  Absalom,  and  was  much  admired,  as  well  for 
his  personal  grace  as  for  the  life  and  gayety  of  his 
manners. 

"One  fine  calm  afternoon,  my  mother,  shortly  after  a 
confinement,  but  perfectly  convalescent,  was  lying  in 
bed,  enjoying,  from  her  window,  the  sense  of  summer 
beauty  and  repose;  fl  bright  sky  above,  ftnd  the  quiet 


'672  THE  brother's  appearance 

v]llage  before  her  In  this  sia-wO  she  was  gladdened  by 
liearing  footsteps  which  she  took  to  be  those  of  her 
brother  Frank,  as  he  was  familiarly  called,  approaching 
the  chamber-door.  The  visitor  knocked  and  entered. 
The  foot  of  the  bed  was  toward  the  door,  and  the  cur- 
tains at  the  foot,  notwithstanding  the  season,  were 
drawn,  to  prevent  any  draught.  Her  brother  parted 
them,  and  looked  in  upon  her.  His  gaze  was  earnest, 
and  destitute  of  its  usual  cheerfulness,  and  he  spoke  not 
a  word.  'My  dear  Frank,'  said  my  mother,  <how  glad 
I  am  to  see  you!  Come  round  to  the  bedside:  I  wish  to 
have  some  talk  with  you.' 

"He  closed  the  curtains,  as  complying;  but,  instead  of 
doing  so,  my  mother,  to  her  astonishment,  heard  him 
leave  the  room,  close  the  door  behind  him,  and  begin  to 
descend  the  stairs.  Greatly  amazed,  she  hastily  rang, 
and  when  her  maid  appeared  she  bade  her  call  her 
brother  back.  The  girl  replied  that  she  had  not  seen 
him  enter  the  house.  But  my  mother  insisted,  saying, 
*He  was  here  but  this  instant.  Eun  !  quick  !  Call  him 
back  !     I  must  see  him.' 

"  The  girl  hurried  away,  but,  after  a  time,  returned, 
saying  that  she  could  learn  nothing  of  him  anywhere; 
nor  had  any  one  in  or  about  the  house  seen  him  either 
enter  or  depart. 

"  Now,  my  father's  house  stood  at  the  bottom  of  the 
village,  and  close  to  the  highroad,  which  was  quite 
straight;  so  that  any  one  passing  along  it  must  havo 
been  seen  for  a  much  longer  period  than  had  elapsed. 
The  girl  said  she  had  looked  up  and  down  the  road,  then 
searched  the  garden, — a  large,  old-fashioned  one,  with 
shady  walks.  But  neither  in  the  garden  nor  on  the 
road  was  he  to  be  seen.  She  bad  inquired  at  the  nearest 
cottages  in  the  village;  but  no  one  had  noticed  him  pass. 

"My  mother,  though  a  very  pious  woman,  was  far 
from  superstitious;  yet  the  strangeness  of  this  circum- 


TO   THE    SISTER.  o ,  5 

stance  struck  her  forcibly.  While  she  lay  pondering 
upon  it,  there  was  heard  a  sudden  running  and  excited 
talking  in  the  village  street.  My  mother  listened :  ic 
increased,  though  up  to  that  time  the  village  had  been 
profoundly  still ;  and  she  became  convinced  that  some- 
thing very  unusual  had  occurred.  Again  she  rang  the 
bell,  to  inquire  the  cause  of  the  disturbance.  This  time 
it  was  the  monthly  nurse  who  answered  it.  She  sought 
to  tranquilize  my  mother,  as  a  nurse  usually  does  a 
patient.  'Oh,  it  is  nothing  particular,  ma'am,'  she  said, 
'some  trifling  affair,' — which  she  pretended  to  relate, 
passing  lightly  over  the  particulars.  But  her  ill-sup- 
pressed agitation  did  not  escape  my  mother's  eye.  'Tell 
me  the  truth,'  she  said,  *at  once.  I  am  certain  some- 
thing very  sad  has  happened.'  The  woman  still  equivo- 
cated, greatly  fearing  the  effect  upon  my  mother  in  her 
then  situation.  And  at  first  the  family  joined  in  the  at- 
tempt at  concealment.  Finally,  however,  my  mother's 
alarm  and  earnest  entreaties  drew  from  them  the  ter- 
rible truth  that  her  brother  had  just  been  stabbed  at 
the  top  of  the  village,  and  killed  on  the  spot. 

**  The  melancholy  event  had  thus  occurred.  My 
uncle,  Francis  Tantum,  had  been  dining  at  Shipley  Hall, 
with  Mr.  Edward  Miller  Mundy,  member  of  Parliament 
for  the  county.  Shipley  Hall  lay  off  to  the  left  of  the 
village  as  you  looked  up  the  main  street  from  my 
father's  house,  and  about  a  mile  distant  from  it;  while 
Heanor  Fall,  my  uncle's  residence,  was  situated  to  the 
right;  the  road  from  the  one  country-seat  to  the  other 
crossing,  nearly  at  right  angles,  the  upper  portion  of  the 
village  street,  at  a  point  where  stood  one  of  the  two 
village  inns,  the  Admiral  Eodney,  respectably  kept  by 
the  widow  H ks.  I  remember  her  well, — a  tall,  fine- 
looking  woman,  who  must  have  been  handsome  in  her 
youth,  and  who  retained,  even  past  middle  age,  an  air 
superior  to  her  condition.     She  bad  one  only  child,  a  oon, 


HI4  DEATH    OF   FRANCS   TANTUM. 

then  scarcely  twenty.  He  was  a  good-looking,  brisk 
young  fellow,  and  bore  a  very  fair  character.  He  must, 
however,  as  the  event  showed,  have  been  of  a  very  hasty 
temper. 

''*  Francis  Tantum,  riding  home  from  Shipley  Hall  after 
the  early  country  dinner  of  that  day,  somewhat  elate,  it 
may  be,  with  wine,  stopped  at  the  widow's  inn  and  bade 
the  son  bring  him  a  glass  of  ale.  As  the  latter  turned 
to  obey,  my  uncle,  giving  the  youth  a  smart  switch 
across  the  back  with  his  riding-whip,  cried  out,  in  his 
lively,  joking  way,  'Now  be  quick,  Dick ;  be  quick  !' 

"  The  young  man,  instead  of  receiving  the  playful 
stroke  as  a  jest,  took  it  as  an  insult.  He  rushed  into 
the  house,  snatched  up  a  carving-knife,  and,  darting  back 
into  the  street,  stabbed  my  uncle  to  the  heart,  as  he  sat 
on  his  horse,  so  that  he  fell  dead,  on  the  instant,  in  the 
road. 

"The  sensation  throughout  the  quiet  village  may  be 
imagined.  The  inhabitants,  who  idolized  the  murdered 
man,  were  prevented  from  taking  summary  vengeance 
on  the  homicide  only  by  the  constables  carrying  him 
oflf  to  the  office  of  the  nearest  magistrate. 

''Young  H ks  was  tried  at  the  next  Derby  assizes; 

but  (justly,  no  doubt,  taking  into  view  the  sudden  irri- 
tation caused  by  the  blow)  he  was  convicted  of  man- 
slaughter only,  and,  after  a  few  months'  imprisonment, 
returned  to  the  village;  where,  notwithstanding  the 
strong  popular  feeling  against  him,  he  continued  to  keep 
the  inn,  even  after  his  mother's  death.  He  is  still  pre- 
sent to  my  recollection,  a  quiet,  retiring  man,  never 
guilty  of  any  other  irregularity  of  conduct,  and  seeming 
.0  bear  about  with  him  the  constant  memory  of  his  rash 
deed, — a  silent  blight  upon  his  life. 

"So  great  was  the  respect  entertained  for  my  uncle, 
and  such  the  deep  impression  of  his  tragic  end,  that  so 
long  as  that  generation   lived  the  church-bells  of  the 


THE   NOBLEMAN   AND   HIS   SERVANT.  o7-) 

Village  were  regularly  tolled  on  the  anniversary  of  hU 
death. 

"On  comparing  the  circumstances  and  the  exact  time 
at  which  each  occurred,  the  fact  was  substantiated  that 
the  apparition  presented  itself  to  my  mother  almost  in- 
stantly after  her  brother  had  received  the  fatal  stroke."* 

Almost  the  only  desirable  condition  left  unfulfilled  in 
the  preceding  narrative  is  that  more  than  one  person,  and 
each  influenced  independently,  should  have  witnessed 
the  apparition.  This  additional  voucher  is  supplied  in 
the  following. 

THE  NOBLEMAN  AND  HIS  SERVANT. 

The  late  Lord  M ,  having  gone  to  the  Highlands 

about  the  end  of  the  last  century,  left  his  wife  perfectly 
well  in  London.  The  night  of  his  arrival  at  his  High- 
land home,  he  was  awakened  by  seeing  a  bright  light  in 
his  room.     The  curtains  of  his  bed  opened,  and  he  saw 

the  appearance  of  Lady  M standing  there.     He  rang 

for  his  servant,  and  inquired  of  him  what  he  saw;  upon 
which  the  man  exclaimed,  in  terror,  "It's   my  lady!'* 

Lady  M had  died  suddenly  in  London  that  night. 

The  story  made  a  great  noise  at  the  time;  and  George 

the  Third,  sending   for  Lord  M and   ascertaining 

from  him  the  truth  of  it,  desired  him  to  write  out  the 
circumstances  as  they  happened;  and  the  servant  coun- 
tersigned the  statement. 

About  a  year  afterward,  a  child  five  years  old,  the 

youngest  daughter  of  Lord  M ,  rushed  breathlessly 

into  the  nursery,  exclaiming,  "I  have  seen  mamma 
standing  at  the  top  of  the  stair  and  beckoning  to  me." 

That  night  the  child,  little  Annabella  M ,  was  taken  ill, 

and  died. 

*  Extracted  from  »  letter  addressed  to  me'  by  Mr.  Howitt,  dated  High* 
sate,  March  28,  1859. 


876  A   RUSSIAN    STORY. 

I  can  vouch,  in  an  unqualified  manner,  for  the  authcn. 
ticity  of  both  the  above  circumstances;  having  received 

the  account,  in  writing,  from  a  member  of  Lord  M 's 

family. 

In  the  following  example  the  testimony  of  two  wit- 
nesses to  the  same  apparition  is  obtained  under  circura- 
Btances  quite  as  conclusive.  It  was  related  to  me  in 
Naples,  January  2,  1857,  by  one  of  these  witnesses,  (an 
intelligent  English  lady,  of  highly  respectable  family, 
who  had  spent  many  years  in  Eussia,)  as  follows. 

LOUISE. 

In  the  early  part  of  the  year  1856,  Mrs.  F resided 

for  some  months  in  the  family  of  Prince ,  a  noble- 
man who  had  occupied  a  high  official  position  under  tho 
Emperor  Nicholas. 

One  evening,  between  eleven  and  twelve,  Mrs.  F 

was  in  a  small  cabinet  adjoining  the  bedroom  of  the 

Princess and  separated  from  it  by  hangings  only, 

when  she  heard  the  door  of  the  bedchamber  open,  and  tho 
princess  (as  she  supposed)  enter  the  room,  set  down  her 
candle,  and  walk  about.  Expecting  her  to  come  into 
the  cabinet,  as  was  her  wont,  she  waited;  but  in  vain. 
Then  she  heard  her  again  open  the  door  and  descend 
the  stairs.  Some  twenty  minutes  afterward,  steps  re- 
ascended  the  stairs,  and  the  princess  herself  entered 

and  spoke  to  her.  Mrs.  F ascertained,  to  her  surprise, 

that  the  princess  had  not  been  in  her  room  before ;  yet 

the  latter  testified  no  astonishment  when  Mrs.  F 

mentioned  what  she  had  heard. 

Learning,  next  morning,  that  the  lady's  maid  had  not 
entered  the  room,  and  that  no  one  else  had  access  to  it, 

Mrs.  F again  adverted  to  the  extraordinary  occur 

rence ;  and  the  princess  told  her  frankly,  what  Mrs  F 

then  learned  for  the  first  time,  that  they  were  accustomed 


LOUISE-  877 

tosiicn  mysterious  visits;  that  they  commonly  portended 
some  unusual  occurrence  in  the  family;  and  that  her 
husband  had  disposed  of  a  palace  they  formerly  owned 
in  another  street,  for  no  other  reason  than  to  endeavor 
to  escape  the  repeated  noises  and  other  disturbances 
by  which  they  had  been  there  tormented.  One  of 
these  was  the  frequent  sounding  of  heavy  steps,  during 
the  dead  of  night,  along  a  certain  corridor.  The  prince 
had  repeatedly,  during  the  occurrence  of  these  sounds, 
caused  every  egress  from  the  corridor  in  question  to  be 
closed  and  guarded;  but  in  vain.  No  solution  of  tho 
mystery  was  ever  obtained. 

The  princess  added  that  to  their  new  palace,  in  which 
they  then  were,  and  the  windows  of  which  looked  out 
on  the  beautiful  Neva,  the  noises  had  followed  them, 
occurring  at  intervals.  One  of  her  daughters,  previous 
to  her  marriage,  had  constantly  experienced  the  sensa- 
tion as  of  some  one  approaching  her  side,  preceded  by 
the  tread  of  steps  and  what  seemed  the  rustling  of  a  silk 
dress,  and  sometimes  accompanied  by  the  sound  as  of 
water  poured  on  the  table. 

At  this  time  there  was  in  the  house  a  femme-de- 
chambre  named  Louise,  a  young  German  girl  of  respect- 
able family,  cultivated  much  beyond  the  station  she 
then  occupied,  and  which  she  had  been  induced  to 
accept  in  consequence  of  a  disappointment  in  love  pro- 
duced by  the  obstinate  opposition  of  the  young  man's 
relatives  to  the  proposed  match.  In  consequence  of 
her  obliging,  cheerful  disposition,  and  her  intelligence, 
she  was  a  great  favorite  in  the  household,  particularly 
with  Mrs.  F ,  whom  she  had  nursed  during  an  illness. 

When,  subsequently,  she  herself  fell  ill,  much  interest 

was  felt  for  her  by  all  the  family,  and  Mrs.  F was 

ii'oquently  at  her  bedside. 

One  evening  the  family  physician,  after  visiting  Louiso, 
leported  that  she  was  doing  very  well,  and  would  doubt* 


}:1B  TWO    INDEPENDENT    WITNESSES 

less  recover  J  so  that  Mrs.  F retired  to  rest  with- 
out any  anxietj'  on  her  account. 

About  two  o'clock  that  night  she  was  disturbed  by 
the  feeling  as  of  something  touching  her;  and,  thinking 
it  to  be  a  rat,  she  became  thoroughly  awake  with  the 
fright.  Then  she  felt,  most  distinctly,  the  touch  as  it 
were  of  a  human  hand  pressing  gently  on  different  parts 
of  her  body  and  limbs.  The  sensation  was  so  positive 
and  unmistakable  that  she  became  convinced  there  was 
some  one  in  the  room.  But  she  could  see  or  hear  nothing; 
and  after  a  time  it  ceased.  The  next  morning  the  servant 
awoke  her  with  the  intelligence  that  Louise  had  died 
suddenly  about  two  o'clock  the  preceding  night. 

The  girl's  effects,  including  her  clothes  and  letters, 
(some  of  them  from  her  lover,  who  still  cherished  affection 
for  her,)  together  with  her  lover's  portrait,  were  collected 
together  and  placed,  until  they  should  be  claimed  by 
her  family,  not  in  the  room  in  which  she  died,  but  in 
another,  which  became  the  bedroom  of  the  femme-de- 
chambre  who  succeeded  her. 

As  the  family  had  frequently  lost  their  servants  through 
terror  of  the  mysterious  disturbances,  they  took  mea- 
sures to  prevent  the  report  of  these  from  reaching  this 
woman's  ears.  She  heard,  however,  at  various  times, 
disturbing  noises  at  night,  and  declared  that  on  several 
occasions  she  had  distinctly  seen  move  silently  across 
the  floor  a  form,  her  description  of  which  tallied  exactly 
with  the  usual  appearance  of  poor  Louise,  whom  in  life 
she  had  never  seen.  This  apparition  caused  her  to  ask 
if  it  was  not  the  room  in  which  her  predecessor  had 
died.  But  being  reassured  on  that  point,  and  having 
boasted,  when  the  noises  first  occurred,  that  no  ghost 
could  inspire  her  with  any  fear,  she  was  ashamed  of 
yielding  to  her  wish  to  sleep  with  one  of  the  servant- 
girls,  and  continued  to.  occupy  her  own  bedroom 

Some  five  weeks  after  the  death  of  Louise,  and  <i  few 


OP   AN    APPARITION.  879 

minutes  after  midnight,  Mr8   F had  ascended  tht 

stairs  with  a  candle;  and,  as  she  reached  the  landing,  a 
dim  form  flitted  suddenly  past  from  left  to  right, — not 
so  rapidly,  however,  but  that  she  could  distinguish  that 
it  was  transparent;  for  she  distinctly  perceived  through 
it  the  opposite  window.  As  she  passed  her  hands  over 
her  eyes, — the  thought  flashing  across  her  mind  that  this 
might  be  a  hallucination  only, — she  was  startled  by  a 
violent  scream  as  of  agony  from  the  bedroom  of  the 
femme-de-chambre,  situated  on  the  left  of  the  stair- 
landing.     The  scream  was  so  loud  that  it  aroused  the 

household,  and  Princess and  others  hastened  with 

Mrs.  F to  ascertain  its  cause.     Thej'  found  the  maid 

in  violent  convulsions;  and  when,  after  some  time,  they 
recovered  her,  she  declared,  in  accents  of  extreme  teiTor, 
that  the  figure  she  had  already  several  times  seen  had  ap- 
peared to  her  in  the  most  distinct  form,  approached  the 
bed  and  bent  over  her,  so  that  she  seemed  to  feel  its 
very  breath  and  touch,  upon  which  she  lost  conscious- 
ness and  knew  not  what  happened  further.  She  could 
not  be  persuaded  again  to  sleep  in  that  room ;  and  the 
disturbances  continued  there  after  she  left  it. 

But,  after  a  time,  the  young  man  who  had  been  en- 
gaged to  Louise  wrote  for  her  eff'ects,  requesting  that 
they  might  be  sent  home,  overland,  at  his  expense.  The 
new  femme-de-chambre  assisted  in  packing  them.  Id 
taking  up  one  of  Louise's  dresses,  she  dropped  it  in  sudden 
terror,  declaring  that  in  exactly  such  a  dress  had  the 
figure  been  clothed  that  bent  over  her  when  she  swooned 
away. 

From  the  day  these  effects  were  taken  from  the  room 
where  they  had  been  placed,  and  sent  off^,  all  noises  and 
disturbances  therein  entirely  ceased.* 


♦  I  read  over  the  above  narrative  to  Mrs.  F ,  made  a  few  corrcetioni 

at  her  suggestion,  and  then  she  assented  to  its  accuracy  in  every  particular 


880  TWO   SEERS   OP   RANK 

We  are  gradually  reaching  a  point  in  this  scries  of 
narratives  at  which  it  becomes  very  difficult  to  explain 
away  the  phenomena  they  embrace,  or  to  account  for 
these  on  any  other  than  the  spiritual  hypothesis.  In 
the  preceding  example,  for  instance,  what  can  possibly 
explain  the  coincident  visions  of  Louise's  successor  and 

Mrs.   F ,   except   the   supposition   of   an   objective 

reality? 

"VYe  find  narratives  as  conclusive  as  the  above  current 
throughout  society, — usually  discredited  by  superficial 
commentators, — sometimes  justly,  for  many  of  them  are 
apocryphal  enough;  sometimes,  as  I  believe,  unjustly. 

I  select,  as  a  specimen  of  this  latter  class,  from 
among  what  are  called  modern  ghost-stories,  one  which, 
on  account  of  the  rank  and  character  of  the  two  seers, 
(Sir  John  Sherbroke  and  General  Wynyard,)  has  been 
as  much  talked  of  throughout  England  as  perhaps  any 
other.  It  was  published  in  the  newspapers  of  the  day ; 
and  the  narrative,  in  a  somewhat  diffuse  form,  has  been 
preserved  in  at  least  one  modern  publication.*  It  is 
alluded  to,  but  the  initials  only  given,  in  Archdeacon 
Wrangham's  edition  of  Plutarch,  in  a  note,  thus  : — "  A 
very  singular  story,  however,  could  be  told  on  this  head 

by  Generals  S and  W— — ,  both  men  of  indisputable 

honor  and  spirit,  and  honorably  distinguished  by  their 
exertions  in  their  country's  service."  It  is  related,  in  a 
succinct  manner,  by  Dr.  Mayo  in  his  work  on  Popular 
Superstitions;  and  he  accompanies  it  with  the  following 
voucher: — ''I  have  had  opportunities  of  inquiring  of 
two  near  relations  of  General  Wyn^^ird  upon  what  evi- 
dence the  above  story  rests.  They  told  me  they  had 
each  heard  it  from  his  own  mouth.  More  recently  a  gen- 
tleman v/hose  accuracy  of  information  exceeds  that  of 
most  people  told  me  that  he  had  heard  the  late  Sii 

*  "  Si(/7i8  be/ore  Death,"  collected  by  Horace  Welby,  London,  1825^  pp 
77  to  82. 


THE    WYNYARD   APPARITION.  S81 

John  Shorbroko,  the  other  party  in  tho  ghost-story,  toll 
it,  much  in  the  same  way,  at  a  dinner-table."*  Here 
it  is : — 

THE  WYNYARD  APPARITION. 

In  the  3'ear  1785,  Sir  John  Sherbroko  and  General 
Wynyard,  then  young  men,  were  officers  in  the  same 
regiment,  stationed  at  that  time  in  the  island  of  Cape 
Breton,  off  Nova  Scotia. 

On  the  15th  of  October  of  that  year,  between  eight 
and  nine  o'clock  p.m.,  these  two  young  officers  were 
seated  before  the  fire,  at  coffee,  in  Wynyard's  parlor. 
It  was  a  room  in  the  new  barracks,  with  two  doors, — 
the  one  opening  on  an  outer  passage,  the  other  into  that 
officer's  bedroom,  from  which  bedroom  there  was  no 
exit  except  by  returning  through  the  parlor. 

Sherbroke,  happening  to  look  up  from  his  book,  saw 
beside  the  door  wliich  opened  on  the  passage  the  figure 
of  a  tail  youth,  apparently  about  twenty  years  of  age, 
but  pale  and  much  emaciated.  Astonished  at  the 
presence  of  a  stranger,  Sherbroke  called  the  attention 
of  his  brother  officer,  sitting  near  him,  to  the  visitor. 
'*I  have  heard,"  he  said,  in  afterward  relating  the 
incident,  "of  a  man's  being  as  pale  as  death;  but  I 
never  saw  a  living  face  assume  the  appearance  of  a 
corpse  except  Wynyard's  at  that  moment."  Both  re- 
mained silently  gazing  on  the  figure  as  it  passed 
slowly  through  the  room  and  entered  the  bed-chamber, 
casting  on  young  Wynyard,  as  it  passed,  a  look,  as 
his  friend  thought,  of  melancholy  affection.  The 
oppression  of  its  presence  was  no  sooner  removed 
than  Wynyard,  grasping  his  friend's  arm,  exclaimed. 


*  "  On  the  Truths  contained  in  Popular  Superstitions,"  by  Herbert  Mayo, 
M.D.,  Professor  of  Anatomy  and  Physiology  in  King's  College,  Jic.  «fco., 
3d  ed.,  Edinborgh  and  London,  1851,  pp.  63,  64. 


382  THE    WYNYARD    APPARITION. 

in    scarcely    articulate    tones,    "  Great   God !   my   bro 
therr 

"Your  brother!  What  can  you  mean?"  replied  Sher- 
broke:  "there  must  be  some  deception  in  this."  And 
with  that  he  instantly  proceeded  into  the  bedroom,  fol- 
lowed by  Wynyard.  No  one  to  be  seen  there!  They 
searched  in  every  part,  and  convinced  themselves  that 
it  was  entirely  untenanted.  Wynyard  persisted  in  de- 
claring that  he  Aa^  seen  his  brother's  spirit;  but  Sher- 
broke  inclined  to  the  belief  that  they  might  havo  been, 
in  some  way  or  other,  deluded,  possibly  by  a  trick  of  a 
brother  officer. 

Nevertheless,  both  waited  with  great  anxiety  for 
letters  from  England;  and  this  anxiety  at  last  became 
80  apparent  on  Wynj^ard's  part  that  his  brother  officers, 
in  spite -of  his  resolution  to  the  contrary,  finally  w^on 
from  him  the  confession  of  what  he  had  seen.  The 
story  was  soon  bruited  abroad,  and  produced  great 
excitement  throughout  the  regiment.  When  the  ex- 
pected vessel  with  letters  arrived,  there  were  none  for 
Wynyard,  but  one  for  Sherbroke.  As  soon  as  that 
officer  had  opened  it,  he  beckoned  Wynyard  from  the 
room.  Expectation  was  at  its  climax,  especially  as  the 
two  friends  remained  closeted  for  an  hour.  On  Sher- 
broke's  return  the  mystery  was  solved.  It  was  a  letter 
from  a  brother  officer,  begging  Sherbroke  to  break 
to  his  friend  Wynyard  the  news  of  the  death  of  his  fa- 
vorite brother,  who  had  expired  on  the  15th  of  October, 
and  at  the  same  hour  at  which  the  friends  saw  the  ap- 
parition in  the  block-house. 

It  remains  to  be  stated  that,  some  years  afterward, 
Sir  John  Sherbroke,  then  returned  to  England,  was 
walking  in  Piccadilly,  London,  when,  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  street,  he  saw  a  gentleman  whom  he  in- 
stantly recognized  as  the  counterpart  of  the  mysterious 
viflitor.    Crossing  over,  he  accosted  him,  apologizing 


CAPTAIN    SCOTT'S    TESTIMONY.  383 

for  his  intrusion,  and  learned  that  he  was  a  brother 
(not  the  twin  brother,  as  some  accounts  have  it)  o\ 
Wynyard. 

Such  is  the  story;  for  the  truth  of  which  I  have  been 
fortunate  enough  to  obtain  vouchers  additional  to  those 
already  given. 

Captain  Henry  Scott,  E.N.,  residing  at  Blackheath. 
near  London,  and  with  whom  I  have  the  pleasure  of 
being  acquainted,  was,  about  thirty  years  ago,  when 
Sir  John  Sherbroke  was  Governor  of  Nova  Scotia, 
under  his  command  as  Assistant  Survej'or-General  of 
that  province;  and  dining,  one  day,  with  Sir  John,  a 
guest  remarked  that  an  English  newspaper,  just  re- 
ceived, had  a  most  extraordinary  ghost-story,  in 
which  his  (Sir  John's)  name  appeared.  Thereupon 
Sherbroke,  with  much  emotion,  quickly  replied,  "I 
beg  that  the  subject  may  not  again  be  mentioned." 
The  impression  on  the  minds  of  all  present  was, 
that  he  considered  the  matter  too  serious  to  be 
talked  of 

But  we  are  not  left  to  mere  inference,  suggested  by 
this  indirect  testimony.  I  communicated  to  Captain 
Scott,  in  manuscript,  the  above  narrative;  and,  in  re- 
turning it,  that  gentleman  wrote  to  me,  with  permission 
to  use  his  name,  as  follows : — 

*' About  six  years  ago,  dining  alone  with  my  dear 
friend — now  gone  to  his  account — General  Paul  An- 
derson, C.B.,  I  related  to  him  the  story  of  the  Wyn- 
yard apparition,  in  substance  exactly  as  you  have  it. 
When  I  had  finished,  *It  is  extraordinary  enough,' 
said  he,  '  that  you  have  related  that  story  almost  ver- 
batim  as  I  had  it  from  Sir  John  Sherbroke's  own  lips  a 
short  time  before   his  death.**      I  asked  the   general 

*  His  death  is  noticed  in  Blackwood's  Magazine  for  Jane»  1S30. 


S84  REMARKS    ON   THE   FOREGOING   CASE. 

whether  Sir  John  had  expressed  any  opinion  about  the 
incident. 

"'Yes/  he  replied:  'he  assured  me,  in  the  most 
solemn  manner,  that  he  believed  the  appearance  to 
have  been  a  ghost  or  spirit;  and  added  that  this 
belief  was  shared  by  his  friend  Wynyard.' 

"  General  Anderson  was  a  distinguished  Penin- 
sular War  oflScer,  a  major  under  Sir  John  Moore,  and 
one  of  those  who  assisted  to  bury  that  gallant 
general."* 

It  will  not,  I  think,  be  questioned  that  this  evidence 
is  as  direct  and  satisfactory  as  can  well  be,  short  of  a 
record  left  in  writing  by  one  or  other  of  the  seers, — 
*  -which  it  does  not  appear  is  to  be  found.  Sir  John 
Sherbroke,  when  forty  years  had  passed  by,  repeats  to 
a  brother  officer  his  unaltered  conviction  that  it  was 
the  spirit  of  his  friend's  brotherf  that  appeared  t/> 
them  in  the  Canadian  block-house,  and  that  that  frien<» 
was  as  fully  convinced  of  the  fact  as  himself. 

Strongly  corroborative,  also,  is  the  fact  that  so 
deeply  imprinted  in  Sherbroke's  memory  were  the 
features  of  the  apparition  that  the  recollection  called 
up,  after  the  lapse  of  years,  b}'^  the  appearance  of  a 
stranger  casually  met  in  the  streets  of  London,  caused 
him  to  accost  that  stranger,  who  proved  to  be  a  brother 
of  the  deceased. 

In  the  following  we  find  an  example  of  three  per- 
sons seeing  the  same  apparition,  though  at  different 
times: — 

*  Extracted  from  letter  of  Captain  Ilenry  Scott  to  me,  dated  January 
20,  1859. 

+  The  brother's  name  was  John  Otway  Wynyard ;  and  he  was  at  the 
time  of  his  death  on  the  15th  of  October,  1785,  Lieutenant  in  the  3d  Kegi- 
ment  of  LifeUjruards. 


APPARITION    WITNESSED   IN   PARIS.  885 

APPARITION  OP  A  STRANGER. 

In  March  of  the  year  1854,  the  Baron  de  Giilden- 
Btubbe  was  residing  alone  in  apartments,  at  Number  23 
Rue  St.  Lazare,  Paris. 

On  the  16th  of  that  month,  returning  thither  from 
an  evening-party,  after  midnight,  he  retired  to  rest; 
but,  finding  himself  unable  to  sleep,  he  lit  a  candle 
and  began  to  read.  Yery  soon  his  attention  was  drawn 
from  the  book  by  experiencing  first  one  electric  shock, 
then  another,  until  the  sensation  was  eight  or  ten  times 
repeated.  This  greatly  surprised  him  and  effectually 
precluded  all  disposition  to  sleep:  he  rose,  donned  a 
warm  dressing-gown,  and  lit  a  fire  in  the  adjoining 
saloon. 

Returning  a  few  minutes  afterward,  without  a  candle, 
in  search  of  a  pocket-handkerchief,  to  the  bedroom,  he 
observed,  by  light  coming  through  the  open  door  of  the 
saloon,  just  before  the  chimney,  (which  was  situated  in 
a  corner  of  the  room,  at  the  opposite  diagonal  from  the 
entrance-door,)  what  seemed  like,  a  dim  column  of 
grayish  vapor,  slightly  luminous.  It  attracted  his 
notice  for  a  moment;  but,  deeming  it  merely  some 
effect  of  reflected  light  from  the  lamps  in  the  court- 
yard, he  thought  no  more  of  it,  and  re-entered  the 
parlor. 

After  a  time,  as  the  fire  burned  badly,  he  returned 
to  the  bedchamber,  to  procure  a  fagot.  This  time 
the  appearance  in  front  of  the  fireplace  arrested  his 
attention.  It  reached  nearly  to  the  ceiling  of  the 
apartment,  which  was  fully  twelve  feet  high.  Its  color 
had  changed  from  gray  to  blue, — that  shade  of  blue 
which  shows  itself  when  spirits  of  wine  are  burned.  It 
was  also  more  distinctly  marked,  and  somewhat  more 
himinous,  than  at  first.  As  the  baron  gazed  at  it,  in 
some  surprise,  there  gradually*  grew  into  sight,  within 


386  THE   GRADUAL   APPEARANCE   AND 

it,  the  figure  of  a  man.  The  outlines  at  first  were 
vague,  and  the  color  blue,  like  the  column,  only  of  a 
darker  shade.  The  baron  looked  upon  it  as  a  hallucina- 
tion, but  continued  to  examine  it  steadily  from  a  dis- 
tance of  some  thirteen  or  fourteen  feet. 

Gradually  the  outlines  of  the  figure  became  marked, 
the  features  began  to  assume  exact  form,  and  the  whole 
to  take  the  colors  of  the  human  flesh  and  dress.  Finally 
there  stood  within  the  column,  and  reaching  about  half- 
way to  the  top,  the  figure  of  a  tall,  portly  old  man,  with 
a  fresh  color,  blue  eyes,  snow-white  hair,  thin  white 
whiskers,  but  without  beard  or  moustache;  and  dressed 
with  some  care.  He  seemed  to  wear  a  white  cravat 
and  long  white  waistcoat,  high  stiff  shirt-collar,  and  a 
long  black  frock-coat,  thrown  back  from  his  chest,  as  is 
the  wont  of  corpulent  people  like  him  in  hot  weather. 
He  appeared  to  lean  on  a  heavy  white  cane. 

After  a  few  minutes,  the  figure  detached  itself  from 
the  column  and  advanced,  seeming  to  float  slowly 
through  the  room,  till  within  about  three  feet  of  its 
wondering  occupant.  There  it  stopped,  put  up  its  hand, 
as  in  form  of  salutation,  and  slightly  bowed. 

The  baron's  impulse  when  it  first  approached  had  been 
to  ring  the  bell.  So  perfectly  distinct  was  the  vision,  so 
absolutely  material  seemed  the  figure  before  him,  that  he 
could  scarcely  resist  the  impression  that  some  stranger 
(for  the  features  were  wholly  unknown  to  him)  had  in- 
vaded his  apartment.  But  the  age  and  friendly  de- 
meanor of  the  intruder  arrested  his  hand.  Whether 
from  this  world  or  the  other,  there  seemed  nothing  hostile 
or  formidable  in  the  appearance  that  presented  itself. 

After  a  time,  the  figure  moved  toward  the  bed,  which 
was  to  the  right  of  the  entrance-door  and  immediately 
opposite  the  fireplace,  then,  turning  to  the  left,  returned 
to  the  spot  before  the  fireplace,  where  it  had  first  ap- 
pearedy  then  advanced  a  second  time  toward  the  baron 


DISAPPEARANCE   OF   AN   APPARITION.  887 

And  this  round  it  continued  to  make  (stopping,  however, 
at  intervals)  as  often  as  eight  or  ten  times.  The  baron 
heard  no  sound,  either  of  voice  or  footstep. 

The  last  time  it  returned  to  the  fireplace,  after  facing 
the  baron,  it  remained  stationary  there.  By  slow 
degrees  the  outlines  lost  their  distinctness;  and,  as  the 
figure  faded,  the  blue  column  gradually  reformed  itself, 
inclosing  it  as  before.  This  time,  however,  it  was  much 
more  luminous, — the  light  being  sufficient  to  enable  the 
baron  to  distinguish  small  print,  as  he  ascertained  by 
picking  up  a  Bible  that  lay  on  his  dressing-table  and 
reading  from  it  a  verse  or  two.  He  showed  mo  the 
copy  :  it  was  in  minion  type.  Very  gradually  the  light 
faded,  seeming  to  flicker  up  at  intervals,  like  a  lamp 
dying  out. 

From  the  time  the  figure  appeared  until  it  began  to 
fade,  mingling  with  the  column,  there  elapsed  about  ten 
minutes  :  so  that  the  witness  of  this  remarkable  appari- 
tion had  the  amplest  opportunity-  fully  to  examine  it. 
When  it  turned  toward  the  fireplace,  he  distinctly  saw 
its  back.  lie  experienced  little  or  no  alarm,  being 
chiefly  occupied  during  the  period  of  its  stay  in  seeking 
to  ascertain  whether  it  was  a  mere  hallucination  or  an 
objective  reality.  On  one  or  two  previous  occasions 
during  his  life  he  had  seen  somewhat  similar  appari- 
tions,— less  distinct,  however,  and  passing  away  more 
rapidly;  and,  as  they  were  of  persons  whom  in  life  he 
had  known,  he  had  regarded  them  as  subjective  only ; 
the  off'spring,  probably,  of  his  imagination,  during  an 
abnormal  state  of  the  nervous  system. 

Pondering  over  this  matter,  he  went  to  bed,  and, 
afler  a  time,  to  sleep.  In  a  dream,  the  same  figure 
he  had  just  seen  again  appeared  to  him,  dressed  exactly 
as  before.  It  seemed  to  sit  down  on  the  side  of  the 
bod;  and,  as  if  in  reply  to  the  reflections  that  had 
been  occupying  the  baron's  mind  before  be  retiixjd  to 


3?<8         CIRCUMSTANCES    CONNECTING   AN    APPARITION 

rest,  he  thought  he  heard  it  say  to  him,  in  substance, 
"  Hitherto  you  have  not  believed  in  the  reality  of  appa- 
ritions, considering  them  only  the  recallings  of  memory  : 
now,  since  you  have  seen  a  stranger,  you  cannot  con- 
sider it  the  reproduction  of  former  ideas."  The  baron 
assented,  in  dream,  to  this  reasoning;  but  the  phantom 
gave  him  no  clew  as  to  what  its  name  or  condition  in 
life  had  been. 

The  next  morning,  meeting  the  wife  of  the  concierge, 
Madame  Matthieu,  who  had  been  in  the  habit  of  attend- 
ing to  his  rooms,  he  inquired  of  her  who  had  been  their 
former  occupant,  adding  that  his  reason  for  making  the 
inquiry  was,  that  the  night  before  he  had  seen  in  his 
bedroom  an  apparition.  At  first  the  woman  seemed 
much  frightened  and  little  disposed  to  be  communi- 
cative ;  but,  when  pressed  on  the  subject,  she  admitted 
that  the  last  person  who  had  resided  in  the  apartments 
now  occupied  by  the  baron  was  the  father  of  the  lady 
who  was  the  proprietor  of  the  house, — a  certain  Mon- 
sieur Caron,  who  had  formerly  filled  the  ofiice  of  mayor 
in  the  province  of  Champagne.  He  had  died  about  two 
years  before,  and  the  rooms  had  remained  vacant  from 
that  time  until  taken  by  the  baron. 

Her  description  of  him,  not  only  as  to  personal  ap- 
pearance, but  in  each  particular  of  dress,  corresponded 
in  the  minutest  manner  to  what  the  baron  had  seen.  A 
white  waistcoat  coming  down  very  low,  a  white  cravat, 
a  long  black  frock-coat :  these  he  habitually  wore.  His 
stature  was  above  the  middle  height;  and  he  was  cor- 
pulent, his  eyes  blue,  his  hair  and  whiskers  white ;  and 
he  wore  neither  beard  nor  moustache.  His  age  was 
between  sixty  and  seventy.  Even  the  smaller  pecu- 
liarities were  exact,  down  to  the  high  standing  shirt- 
collar,  the  habit  of  throwing  back  his  coat  from  bin 
chest,  and  the  thick  white  cane,  his  constant  companion 
when  he  went  out. 


WITH    THE   EXTERNAL    WORLD.  389 

Mad&me  Matthieu  further  confessed  to  the  baron  tliat 
ho  was  not  the  only  one  to  whom  the  apparition  of  M. 
Caron  had  shown  itself.  On  one  occasion  a  maid-servant 
had  seen  it  on  the  stairs.  To  herself  it  had  appeared 
several  times, — once  just  in  front  of  the  entrance  to  the 
saloon,  again  in  a  dimly-lighted  passage  that  led  past 
the  bedroom  to  the  kitchen  beyond,  and  more  than 
once  in  the  bedroom  itself  M.  Caron  had  dropped 
down  in  the  passage  referred  to,  in  an  apoplectic  fit, 
had  been  carried  thence  into  the  bedroom,  and  had  died 
in  the  bed  now  occupied  by  the  baron. 

She  said  to  him,  further,  that,  as  he  might  have  re- 
marked, she  almost  always  took  the  opportunity  when 
he  was  in  the  saloon  to  arrange  his  bedchamber,  and 
that  she  had  several  times  intended  to  apologize  to  him 
for  this,  but  had  refrained,  not  knowing  what  excuse  to 
make.  The  true  reason  was  that  she  feared  again  to 
meet  the  apparition  of  the  old  gentleman. 

The  matter  finally  came  to  the  ears  of  the  daughter, 
the  owner  of  the  house.  She  caused  masses  to  be  said 
for  the  soul  of  her  father;  and  it  is  alleged — how  truly  1 
know  not — that  the  apparition  has  not  been  seen  in  any 
of  the  apartments  since. 

This  narrative  I  had  from  the  Baron  de  Guldenstubbe 
himself*  That  gentleman  stated  to  me  that,  up  to  the 
time  when  he  saw  the  apparition,  he  had  never  heard  of 
M.  Caron,  and  of  course  had  not  the  slightest  idea  of  hi8 
personal  appearance  or  dress;  nor,  as  may  be  supposed, 
had  it  ever  been  intimated  to  him  that  any  one  had 
died,  two  years  before,  in  the  room  in  which  he  slept. 

The  story  derives  much  of  its  value  from  the  calm 
and  dispassionate  manner  in  which  the  witness  appears 
lo  have  observed  the  succession  of  phenomena,  and  the 

*  In  Paris,  on  the  11th  of  May,  1859. 
33* 


090  THE   COUNT   DE   FELKESHEIM. 

exact  details  which,  in  consequence,  he  has  been  enable*! 
to  furnish.  It  is  remarkable,  also,  as  well  for  the  elec- 
trical influences  which  preceded  the  appearance,  as  on 
account  of  the  correspondence  between  the  apparition 
to  the  baron  in  his  waking  state  and  that  subsequently 
seen  in  dream;  the  first  cognizable  by  one  sense  only, — 
that  of  siglit, — the  second  appealing  (though  in  vision  of 
the  night  only)  to  the  hearing  also. 

The  coincidences  as  to  personal  peculiarities  and  de- 
tails of  dress  are  too  numerous  and  minutely  exact  to 
be  fortuitous,  let  us  adopt  what  theory,  in  explanation, 
we  may. 

This  series  of  narratives  would  be  incomplete  with- 
out some  examples  of  those  stories  of  a  tragic  cast, 
seeming  to  intimate  that  the  foul  deeds  committed  in 
this  world  may  call  back  the  criminal,  or  the  victim, 
from  another. 

A  very  extraordinary  sample  of  such  stories  is  given 
in  the  memoirs  of  Sir  Nathaniel  Wraxall,  a  man  of  some 
distinction  in  his  day,  and  from  1780  to  1794  a  member 
of  the  British  Parliament.  It  was  related  to  Sir  Na- 
thaniel, when  on  a  visit  to  Dresden,  by  the  Count  de 
Felkesheim.  Of  him  Wraxall  says,  "  He  was  a  Livonian 
gentleman,  settled  in  Saxony;  of  a  very  improved  under- 
standing, equally  superior  to  credulity  as  to  supersti- 
tion."    The  conversation  occurred  in  October,  1778. 

After  alluding  to  the  celebrated  exhibition,  by  Schrep- 
fer,  of  the  apparition  of  the  Chevalier  de  Saxe,  and  ex- 
pressing his  opinion  that  "though  he  could  not  pretend 
to  explain  by  what  process  or  machinery  that  business 
was  conducted,  yet  he  had  alwaj^s  considered  Schrepfer 
as  an  artful  im])Ostor,"  the  count  proceeded  to  say  that 
he  was  not  so  decidedly  skeptical  as  to  the  possibility 
of  apparitions  as  to  treat  them  with  ridicule  or  set  them 
down  as  unphilosophical.     Educated  in  the  Univevoity 


THE    IRON    STOVE  391 

of  lionigsberg,  he  had  attended  the  lectures  on  ethics 
and  moral  philosophy  of  a  certain  professor  there,  a 
very  superior  man,  but  who,  although  an  ecclesiastic, 
was  suspected  of  peculiar  opinions  on  religious  subjects. 
In  effect,  when,  during  his  course,  the  professor  touched 
on  the  doctrine  of  a  future  state,  his  language  betrayed 
so  visible  an  embarrassment  that  the  count,  his  curiosity 
excited,  ventured  privately  to  broach  the  subject  to  his 
teacher,  entreating  him  to  say  whether  he  had  held  back 
any  thing  that  dwelt  on  his  mind. 

The  reply  of  the  professor  was  embodied  in  the  follow- 
ing strange  storj-. 

THE  IRON  STOVE. 

"The  hesitation  which  you  noticed,"  said  he,  "resulted 
from  the  conflict  which  takes  place  within  me  when  1 
am  attempting  to  convey  my  ideas  on  a  subject  where 
my  understanding  is  at  variance  with  the  testimony  of 
my  senses.  I  am,  equally  from  reason  and  reflection, 
disposed  to  consider  with  incredulity  and  contempt  the 
existence  of  apparitions.  But  an  appearance  which  I 
have  witnessed  with  my  own  eyes,  as  far  as  they  or  any 
of  the  perceptions  can  be  confided  in,  and  which  has 
even  received  a  sort  of  subsequent  confirmation  from 
other  circumstances  connected  with  the  original  facts, 
leaves  me  in  that  state  of  skepticism  and  suspense  which 
pervaded  my  discoui-se.  I  will  communicate  to  you  its 
cause. 

"Having  been  brought  up  to  the  profession  of  the 
Church,  I  was  presented  by  Frederick  William  the  First, 
late  King  of  Prussia,  to  a  small  benefice,  situated  in  the 
interior  of  the  country,  at  a  considerable  distance  south 
of  Konigsberg.  I  repaired  thither  in  order  to  take  pos- 
session of  my  living,  and  found  a  neat  parsonage-house, 
where  I  passed  the  night  in  a  bed-chamber  which  had 
oeeu  occupied  by  my  predecessor. 


392  NARRATIVE  VOUCHED  FOR 

"It  was  in  the  longest  days  of  summer;  and  on  the 
following  morning,  which  was  Sunday,  while  lying 
awake,  the  curtains  of  the  bed  being  undrawn,  and  it 
being  hroad  daylight,  I  beheld  the  figure  of  a  man, 
habited  in  a  loose  gown,  standing  at  a  sort  of  reading- 
desk,  on  which  lay  a  large  book,  the  leaves  of  which  he 
seemed  to  turn  over  at  intervals.  On  each  side  of  him 
stood  a  little  boy,  in  whose  face  he  looked  earnestly 
from  time  to  time;  and,  as  he  looked,  he  seemed  always 
to  heave  a  deep  sigh.  His  countenance,  pale  and  dis- 
consolate, indicated  some  distress  of  mind.  I  had  .the 
most  perfect  view  of  these  objects;  but,  being  impressed 
with  too  much  terror  and  apprehension  to  rise  or  to 
address  myself  to  the  appearances  before  me,  I  remained 
for  some  minutes  a  breathless  and  silent  spectator,  with- 
out uttering  a  word  or  altering  my  position.  At  length 
the  man  closed  the  book,  and  then,  taking  the  two  chil- 
dren, one  in  each  hand,  he  led  them  slowly  across  the 
room.  My  eyes  eagerly  followed  him  till  the  three 
figures  gradually  disappeared,  or  were  lost,  behind  an 
iron  stove  which  stood  at  the  farthest  corner  of  the 
apartment. 

"  However  deeply  and  awfully  I  was  aifected  by  the 
sight  which  I  had  witnessed,  and  however  incapable  I 
was  of  explaining  it  to  my  own  satisfaction,  yet  I  re- 
covered sufficiently  the  possession  of  my  mind  to  get 
up;  and,  having  hastily  dressed  myself,  I  left  the  house. 
The  sun  was  long  risen ;  and,  directing  my  steps  to  the 
church,  I  found  that  it  was  open,  though  the  sexton  had 
quitted  it.  On  entering  the  chancel,  my  mind  and  imagi- 
nation were  so  strongly  impressed  by  the  scene  which 
had  recently  passed,  that  I  endeavored  to  dissipate  the 
recollection  by  considering  the  objects  around  me.  In 
almost  all  Lutheran  churches  of  the  Prussian  dominions 
it  is  the  custom  to  hang  up  against  the  walls,  ur  some 
part  of  the  building,  the  portraits  of  the  successive  pas- 


BY    SIR    NATHANIEL    WRAXALL.  393 

tors  or  clergymen  who  have  held  the  living.  A  number 
of  these  paintings,  rudely  performed,  were  suspended  in 
one  of  the  aisles.  But  I  had  no  sooner  fixed  my  eyea 
on  the  last  in  the  range,  which  was  the  portrait  of  my 
immediate  predecessor,  than  they  became  riveted  on  the 
object;  for  I  instantly  recognized  the  same  face  which 
I  had  beheld  in  my  bed-chamber,  though  not  clouded  by 
the  same  deep  impression  of  melancholy  and  distress. 

''The  sexton  entered  as  I  was  still  contemplating  this 
interesting  head,  and  I  immediately  began  a  conversa- 
tion with  him  on  the  subject  of  the  persons  who  had 
preceded  me  in  the  living.  He  remembered  several  in- 
cumbents, concerning  whom,  respectively,  I  made  various 
inquiries,  till  I  concluded  by  the  last,  relative  to  whose 
history  I  was  particularly  inquisitive.  'We  considered 
him,'  said  the  sexton,  'as  one  of  the  most  learned  and 
amiable  men  who  have  ever  resided  among  us.  His 
character  and  benevolence  endeared  him  to  all  hia 
parishioners,  who  will  long  lament  his  loss.  But  he  was 
parried  oflf  in  the  middle  of  his  days  by  a  lingering  ill- 
ness, the  cause  of  which  has  given  rise  to  many  unplea- 
sant reports  among  us,  and  which  still  form  matter  of 
conjecture.  It  is,  however,  commonly  believed  that  he 
died  of  a  broken  heart.' 

''My  curiosity  being  still  more  warmly  excited  by  the 
mention  of  this  circumstance,  I  eagerly  pressed  him  to 
disclose  to  me  all  he  knew,  or  had  heard,  on  the  subject. 
'Nothing  respecting  it,'  answered  he,  'is  absolutely 
known;  but  scandal  has  propagated  a  stoiy  of  hia 
having  formed  a  criminal  connection  with  a  young 
woman  of  the  neighborhood,  by  whom,  it  was  even 
asserted,  he  had  two  sons.  As  confirmation  of  the  re- 
port, I  know  that  there  certainly  were  two  children 
who  have  been  seen  at  the  parsonage, — boys,  of  about 
four  or  five  years  old;  but  they  suddenly  disappeared 
riome  time  before  the  decease  of  their  supposed  father^ 


894  THE   CONTENTS   OF   THE    STOVE. 

though  to  what  place  they  were  sent,  or  what  is  become 
of  them,  we  are  wholly  ignorant.  It  is  equally  certain 
that  the  surmises  and  unfavorable  opinions  formed  re- 
specting this  mj'sterious  business,  which  must  neces- 
sarily' have  reached  him,  precipitated,  if  they  did  not 
produce,  the  disorder  of  which  our  late  pastor  died  :  but 
ho  is  gone  to  his  account,  and  we  are  bound  to  think 
charitably  of  the  departed.* 

"It  is  unnecessary  to  say  with  what  emotion  I  listened 
to  this  relation,  which  recalled  to  my  imagination,  and 
seemed  to  give  proof  of  the  existence  of,  all  that  I  had 
seen.  Yet,  unwilling  to  suffer  my  mind  to  become 
enslaved  by  phantoms  which  might  have  been  the  effect 
of  error  or  deception,  I  neither  communicated  to  the 
sexton  the  circumstances  which  I  had  witnessed,  nor 
even  permitted  myself  to  quit  the  chamber  where  it 
had  taken  place.  I  continued  to  lodge  there,  without 
ever  witnessing  any  similar  appearance;  and  the  recollec- 
tion itself  began  to  wear  away  as  the  autumn  advanced. 

<'When  the  approach  of  winter  made  it  necessary  to 
light  fires  throughout  the  house,  I  ordered  the  iron 
stove  which  stood  in  the  room,  and  behind  which  the 
figure  which  I  had  beheld,  together  with  the  two  boys, 
seemed  to  disappear,  to  be  heated,  for  the  purpose  of 
warming  the  apartment.  Some  difficulty  was  ex- 
perienced in  making  the  attempt,  the  stove  not  only 
smoking  intolerably,  but  emitting  an  offensive  smell. 
Having,  therefore,  sent  for  a  blacksmith  to  inspect  and 
repair  it,  he  discovered,  in  the  inside,  at  the  farthest 
extremity,  the  bones  of  two  small  human  bodies,  corre- 
sponding in  size  with  the  description  given  me  by  the 
sexton  of  the  two  boys  who  had  been  seen  at  the 
parsonage. 

"  This  last  circumstance  completed  my  astonishment, 
and  appeared  to  confer  a  sort  of  reality  on  an  appear- 
anee    which    might    otherwise    have    been   conwdt^ied 


SPECULATIONS.  895 

as  a  delusion  of  the  senses.  I  resigned  the  living, 
quitted  the  place,  and  retired  to  Konigsberg;  but  it  has 
produced  on  my  mind  the  deepest  impression,  and  has, 
in  its  effect,  given  rise  to  that  uncertainty  and  contra 
diction  of  sentiment  which  you  remarked  in  my  late 
discourse."* 

Wraxall  adds,  "Such  was  Count  Felkesheim's  story, 
which,  from  its  singularity,  appeared  to  me  deserving 
of  commemoration,  in  whatever  contempt  we  may  hold 
similar  anecdotes." 

If  this  narrative,  and  the  intimations  it  conveys,  may 
be  trusted  to,  what  a  glimpse  do  thesedispla}' of  a  species 
of  future  punishment  speedy  and  inevitable! — inevitable 
so  long  as  wickedness  inheres  in  wicked  deeds,  unless 
conscience  dies  with  the  body.  But  conscience  is  an 
attribute  of  the  immortal  spirit,  not  of  the  perishable 
frame.  And  if,  in  very  truth,  from  the  world  beyond 
it  drags  down  the  evil-doer  to  the  earthly  scene  of  his 
misdeeds,  how  false  is  our  phrase,  when,  in  speaking  of 
a  murderer  who  has  eluded  justice,  we  say  he  has  es- 
caped punishment!  His  deed  dies  not.  Even  if  no 
vengeful  arm  of  an  offended  Deit}^  requite  the  wrong, 
the  wrong  ma}'  requite  itself.  Even  in  the  case  of  some 
hardened  criminal,  when  the  soul,  dulled  to  dogged  care- 
lessness during  its  connection  with  an  obtuse  and  de- 
graded physical  organization,  remains  impervious,  while 
life  lasts,  to  the  stings  of  conscience,  death,  removing 
the  hard  shell,  may  expose  to  sensitiveness  and  to  suffer- 
ing the  disengaged  spirit. 

There  are  intimations,  however,  somewhat  similar  in 
general  character  to  the  above,,  which  seem  to  teach  us 
that  even  in  the  next  world  repentance,  by  its  regene- 


•  "Uutcrical  Metnoirao/m^  Oum  Time,"  by  Sir  N.  William  Wraxall,  Bart,. 
London,  1815,  pp.  218  to  226. 


3lJ6  APPARITION   WHICH   APPEARED 

rating  influence,  may  gradually  change  the  character 
and  the  condition  of  the  criminal;  and  I  shall  not  bo 
deterred  from  bringing  forward  an  example,  in  illustra- 
tion, by  the  fear  of  being  charged  with  Eoman  Catholic 
leanings.     Eclecticism  is  true  philosophy. 

The  example  to  which  I  refer  is  one  adduced  and 
vouched  for  by  Dr.  Kerner,  and  to  which,  in  part,  he 
could  testify  from  personal  observation.  It  is  the  his- 
tory of  the  same  apparition,  already  briefly  alluded  to,* 
as  one,  the  appearance  of  which  to  Madame  Hauffe  was 
uniformly  heralded  by  knockings,  or  rappings,  audible 
to  all.     I  entitle  it 

THE  CHILD'S  BONES  FOUND. 

The  apparition  first  presented  itself  to  Madame  Hauflb 
during  the  winter  of  1824-25,  one  morning  at  nine 
o'clock,  while  she  was  at  her  devotions.  It  was  that  of 
a  swarthy  man,  of  small  stature,  his  head  somewhat 
drooping,  his  countenance  wrinkled  as  with  age,  clad  in 
a  dark  monk's  frock.  He  looked  hard  at  her,  in  silence. 
She  experienced  a  shuddering  sensation  as  she  returned 
his  gaze,  and  hastily  left  the  room. 

The  next  day,  and  almost  daily  during  an  entire  year, 
the  figure  returned,  usually  appearing  at  seven  o'clock 
in  the  evening,  which  was  Madame  Haufi'e's  wonted 
hour  of  prayer.  On  his  second  appearance  he  spoke  to 
her,  saying  he  had  come  to  her  for  comfort  and  instruc- 
tion. "Treat  me  as  a  child,"  he  said,  "and  teach  me 
religion."  With  especial  entreaty,  he  begged  of  her 
that  she  would  pray  with  him.  Subsequently  he  con- 
fessed to  her  that  he  had  the  burden  of  a  murder  and 
of  other  grievous  sins  on  his  soul ;  that  he  had  wandered 


*  See  Book  III.  chap.  2,  "TheSeereaa  of  Prevorst."  The  circumstances, 
as  already  stated,  occurred  near  Lowenstein,  in  the  kingdom  of  ^Jurtem* 
berg.     Dr.  Kerner  and  the  seeresa  and  her  family  were  Protestants- 


TO   THE    SEERESS    OF   PREVORST.  397 

restlessly  lor  long  years,  and  had  never  yet  been  able 
to  address  himself  to  prayer. 

She  complied  with  his  request;  and  from  time  to 
time  throughout  the  long  period  that  he  continued  to 
appear  to  her  she  instructed  him  in  religious  matters, 
and  he  joined  with  her  in  her  devotions. 

One  evening,  at  the  usual  hour,  there  appeared  with 
him  the  figure  of  a  woman,  tall  and  meager,  bearing  in 
her  arms  a  child  that  seemed  to  have  just  died.  She 
kneeled  down  with  him,  and  prayed  also.  This  female 
figure  had  once  before  appeared  to  the  seeress;  and  her 
coming  was  usually  preceded  by  sounds  similar  to  those 
obtained  from  a  steel  triangle. 

Sometimes  she  saw  the  man's  figure  during  her  walks 
abroad.  It  seemed  to  glide  before  her.  On  one  occasion 
she  had  been  on  a  visit  to  Gronau  with  her  parents  and 
her  brothers  and  sisters;  and  ere  she  reached  home  the 
clock  struck  seven.  Of  a  sudden  she  began  to  run;  and 
when  they  hastened  after  her  to  inquire  the  cause,  she 
exclaimed,  "  The  spirit  is  gliding  before  and  entreating 
my  prayers."  As  they  passed  hastily  along,  the  family 
distinctly  heard  a  clapping,  as  of  hands,  seeming  '■o 
come  from  the  air  before  them;  sometimes  it  was  a 
knocking  as  on  the  walls  of  the  houses  which  they 
happened  to  pass.  When  they  reached  home,  a  clap- 
ping of  hands  sounded  before  them  as  they  ascended 
the  stairs.  The  seeress  hastened  to  her  chamber;  and 
there,  as  if  on  bended  knees,  the  spirit  prayed  with  her 
as  usual. 

The  longer  she  conversed  with  him,  and  the  oftener 
he  came  for  prayer,  the  lighter  and  more  cheerful  and 
friendly  did  his  countenance  become.  When  their  de- 
votions were  over,  he  was  wont  to  say,  "  Now  the  sun 
rises !"  or,  "Now  I  feel  the  sun  shining  within  me  T 

One  day  she  asked  him  whether  he  could  hear  other 
persons   speak  as  well  as  herself.     "I  can  hear  them 


398  THE   BLACK   TERRIER. 

through  you,"  was  his  reply.  "How  so?"  she  inquired 
And  he  answered,  "Because  when  you  hear  others 
speak  you  think  of  what  you  hear;  and  I  can  read 
your  thoughts." 

It  was  observed  that,  as  often  as  this  spirit  appeared, 
a  black  terrier  that  was  kept  in  the  house  seemed  to  be 
sensible  of  its  presence;  for  no  sooner  was  the  figure 
perceptible  to  the  seeress  than  the  dog  ran,  as  if  for 
protection,  to  some  one  present,  often  howling  loudly; 
and  after  his  first  sight  of  it  he  would  never  remain  alone 
of  nights. 

One  night  this  apparition  presented  itself  to  Madame 
Hauffe  and  said,  "I  shall  not  come  to  you  for  a  week; 
for  your  guardian  spirit  is  occupied  elsewhere.  Some- 
thing important  is  about  to  happen  in  your  family:  you 
will  hear  of  it  next  Wednesday." 

This  was  repeated  by  Madame  Hauffe  to  her  family 
the  next  morning.  Wednesday  came,  and  with  it  a  letter 
informing  them  that  the  seeress's  grandfather,  of  whose 
illness  they  had  not  even  been  previously  informed,  was 
dead.  The  apparition  did  not  show  itself  again  till  the 
end  of  the  week. 

The  ''guardian  spirit"  spoken  of  by  the  apparition 
frequently  appeared  to  the  seeress,  in  the  form  of 
her  grandmother,  the  deceased  wife  of  him  who  had 
just  died,  and  alleged  that  it  was  her  grandmother's 
spirit,  and  that  it  constantly  watched  over  her.  When 
the  spirit  of  the  self-confessed  murderer  reappeared, 
after  the  intermission  of  a  week,  she  asked  him  why 
her  guardian  spirit  had  deserted  her  in  these  last  days. 
To  which  he  replied,  "Because  she  was  occupied  by  the 
dying-bed  of  the  recently  deceased."  He  added,  "I 
have  advanced  so  far  that  I  saw  the  spirit  of  your  rela- 
tive soon  after  his  death  enter  a  beautiful  valley.  1 
shall  soon  be  allowed  to  enter  it  myself" 

Madame  Hauffe's  mother  never  saw  the  apparition, 


THE   FOREST-BANOER.  899 

nor  did  her  sister.  But  both,  at  the  times  when  the 
spirit  appeared  to  the  seeress,  frequently  felt  the  sensa- 
tion as  of  a  breeze  blowing  upon  them. 

A  friend  of  the  family,  a  certain  forest-ranger,  named 
Boheim,  would  not  believe  in  the  apparition,  and  wished 
to  be  present  with  Madame  Hauffo  at  the  usual  hour 
when  it  came.  He  and  she  were  alone  in  the  room. 
When  a  few  minutes  had  elapsed,  they  heard  the  custom- 
ary rappings,  and,  shortly  after,  the  sound  as  of  a  body 
falling.  They  entered,  and  found  Boheim  in  a  swoon  on 
the  floor.  When  he  recovered,  he  told  them  that,  soon 
after  the  rappings  commenced,  there  formed  itself,  in  the 
corner  against  the  wall,  a  gray  cloud ;  that  this  cloud 
gradually  approached  the  seeress  and  himself;  and  when 
it  came  quite  near  it  assumed  human  form.  It  was  be- 
tween him  and  the  door,  so  as,  apparently,  to  bar  egress. 
He  had  returned  to  consciousness  when  aid  arrived,  and 
he  was  astonished  to  see  persons  pass  through  the  figure 
without  seeming  to  notice  it. 

At  the  expiration  of  about  a  year  from  the  time  of  its 
first  appearance, — namely,  on  the  evening  of  the  5th  of 
January,  1826, — the  spirit  said  to  the  seeress,  "  I  shall  soon 
leave  you  altogether."  And  he  thanked  her  for  all  the 
aid  and  instruction  she  had  given  him,  and  for  her 
prayers.  The  next  day  (January  6,  the  day  her  child 
was  christened)  he  appeared  to  her  for  the  last  time.  A 
servant-girl  who  was  with  the  seeress  at  the  moment 
saw  and  heard  (to  her  astonishment)  the  door  open  and 
close ;  but  it  was  the  seeress  alone  who  saw  the  appari- 
tion enter  j  and  she  said  nothing  to  the  girl  about  it. 

Afterward,  at  the  christening,  Madame  Hauffe's  father 
distinctly  perceived  the  same  figure,  looking  bright  and 
pleasant.  And  going  presently  into  an  ante-chamber, 
he  also  saw  the  apparition  of  the  tall,  thin,  melancholy 
woman,  with  the  child  on  her  arm.  After  this  day 
neither  of  the  figures  ever  appeared  to  the  seeress. 


400  THE   BONES   FOUND 

But  the  i'act  most  strikingly  corroborative  of  all 
remains  to  be  told.  At  the  instigation  of  the  seeress, 
they  dug,  at  a  spot  designated  by  her,  in  the  yard  back 
of  the  house,  near  the  kitchen,  and  there,  at  a  con- 
siderable depth,  they  found  the  skeleton  and  other  remains 
*ofa  small  child/^ 

A  single  narrative  is  insufficient  proof  of  a  novel 
theory;  and  by  many  the  theory  will  be  deemed  novel 
which  assumes  that  the  hope  of  improvement  dies  not 
with  the  body,  that  beyond  the  tomb,  as  on  this  side 
of  it,  progress  is  the  great  ruling  principle,  and  that  not 
only  may  we  occasionally  receive  communications  from 
the  denizens  of  another  world,  but,  under  certain  cir- 
cumstances, may  sometimes  impart  to  them  comfort  and 
instruction  in  return. 

I  do  not  find,  however,  either  from  analogy,  in  Scripture, 
or  elsewhere,  any  presumptive  evidence  going  to  disprove 
such  a  hypothesis. f  The  narrative,  so  far  as  it  goes, 
sustains  it.  All  that  can  be  said  is,  that  other  coinciding 
proofs  are  needed  before  it  can  be  rationally  alleged  that 


*  "Z)ie  Seherin  von  Prevorat,"  by  Justinus  Kerner,  4th  edition,  Stuttgart 
and  Tubingen,  1846,  pp.  367  to  374. 

f  In  a  subsequent  chapter  (on  the  Change  at  Death)  I  shall  have  occasion 
to  speak  of  the  doctrine — vaguely  conceived  by  the  ancients,  adopted  in 
somewhat  more  definite  form  by  the  Jews,  and  universally  received  by  early 
Christians — of  what  is  commonly  called  a  mediate  state  after  death, — a  state 
where  instruction  may  still  be  received,  where  repentance  may  still  do  its 
work,  and  where  the  errors  of  the  present  life  may  be  corrected  in  a  life  to 
come. 

Several  of  the  early  Christian  Fathers  held  to  the  opinion  that  the  gospel 
was  preached,  both  by  Christ  and  his  apostles,  to  the  dead  as  well  as  to  the 
living :  among  them,  Origen  and  Clement  of  Alexandria.  The  latter  ex- 
claims, "  "What !  do  not  the  Scriptures  manifest  that  the  Lord  preached  the 
gospel  to  those  who  perished  in  the  deluge,  or  rather  to  such  as  had  been 
bound,  and  to  those  in  prison  and  in  custody  ?  It  has  been  shown  to  me 
that  the  apostles,  in  imitation  of  the  Lord,  preached  the  gospel  to  those  in 
Hades." — Quoted  hy  Seara,  "  Foregleamt  o/  ImmortaHty,"  p.  264. 


CORROBORATIVE    CIRCUMSTANCES.  401 

we  h.ivo  obtained  such  an  aggregation  of  evidence  as 
may  be  pronounced  conclusive. 

It  is  none  the  less  to  be  conceded  that  Kerner's  story- 
bears  strong  marks  of  authenticity.  The  good  faith  of 
the  author  has  scarcely  been  questioned  even  by  his 
opponents.  His  opportunities  for  observation  were 
almost  without  precedent.  "  I  visited  Madame  Hauffe, 
as  physician,"  he  tells  us,  "probably  three  thousand 
times.  I  frequently  remained  by  her  sick-bed  hours  at 
a  time;  I  knew  her  surroundings  better  than  she  did 
herself;  and  I  took  unspeakable  pains  to  follow  up 
every  rumor  or  suggestion  of  trickery,  without  ever  de- 
tecting the  slightest  trace  of  any  deception."* 

It  is  to  be  remarked,  also,  that  in  this  example  there 
are  many  strongly  corroborative  circumstances,  beyond 
the  perceptions  of  the  seeress, — the  knockings  and  clap- 
pings, heard  by  all ;  the  cool  breeze  felt  by  her  mother 
and  sister;  the  terror  of  the  dog;  the  fulfillment  of  the 
prophecy,  communicated  beforehand  to  her  family,  iu 
connection  with  t^e  grandfather's  death.  Add  to  this 
that  the  same  apparition  was  seen,  at  different  times,  by 
three  persons, — by  Madame  Hauffe,  by  her  father,  and 
by  Herr  Boheim.  Names,  dates,  places,  every  minute 
incident  is  given.  The  narrative  was  published,  on  the 
spot,  at  the  time.  Sixteen  years  afterward,  on  the 
issuing  of  the  fourth  edition  of  his  work.  Dr.  Kerner  re- 
iterates in  the  most  solemn  manner  his  conviction  of  its 
truth. 

It  is  in  vain  to  assert  that  we  ought  to  pass  lightly  by 
such  testimony  as  this. 

In  the  two  preceding  narratives,  the  incidents  of 
which  seem  to  indicate  the   return  of  the   evil-doer's 


•   •  Seheriti  von  Prtvont"  p.  324.      The  entire  woi  k  will  well  repaj  » 
oarcful  perusal. 

2  A  34» 


432  HOW   A    DEBT    OF   THREE-AND-TENPENOE 

spirit  to  the  scene  of  his  evil  deed,  the  deed  was  one  of 
the  greatest  of  earthly  crimes, — murder.  But  we  may 
find  examples  where  the  prompting  motive  of  return 
appears  to  be  a  mere  short-coming  of  the  most  trivial 
character.  Such  a  one  is  given  by  Dr.  Binns,  in  his 
"  Anatomy  of  Sleep."  It  was  communicated  by  the  Eev. 
Charles  McKay,  a  Catholic  priest,  then  resident  in  Scot- 
land, in  a  letter  addressed  by  him  to  the  Countess  of 
Shrewsbury,  dated  Perth,  October  21,  1842.  This  letter 
was  communicated  by  the  earl  to  Dr.  Binns,  who  pub- 
lishes it  entire,  adding  that  "perhaps  there  is  not  a 
better-authenticated  case  on  record."  I  extract  it  from 
the  letter,  as  follows. 

THE  DEBT  OF  THREE-AND-TENPENCE. 

»'  In  July,  1838, 1  left  Edinburgh,  to  take  charge  of  the 
Perthshire  missions.  On  my  arrival  in  Perth,  the  prin- 
cipal station,  I  was  called  upon  by  a  Presbyterian 
woman,  (Anne  Simpson  by  name,)  who  for  more  than  a 
week  had  been  in  the  utmost  anxiety  to  see  a  priest.  On 
asking  her  what  she  wanted  with  me,  she  answered,  ^  Oh, 
sir,  I  have  been  terribly  troubled  for  several  nights  by  a 
person  appearing  to  me  during  the  night.'  *  Are  you  a 
Catholic,  my  good  woman  V  ^  No,  sir :  I  am  a  Presby- 
terian.' 'Why,  then,  do  you  come  to  me?  I  am  a 
Catholic  priest,'  '  But,  sir,  she  (meaning  the  person  that 
had  appeared  to  her)  desired  me  to  go  to  the  priest,  and 
I  have  been  inquiring  for  a  priest  during  the  last  week.' 
*  Why  did  she  wish  you  to  go  to  the  priest  ?'  <  She  said 
she  owed  a  sum  of  money,  and  the  priest  would  pay  it.' 
What  was  the  sum  of  money  she  owed?'  'Three-and- 
tenpence,  sir.'  <  To  whom  did  she  owe  it  ?'  *  I  do  not 
know,  sir.'  <Are  you  sure  you  have  not  been  dream- 
ing?' 'Oh,  God.  forgive  you!  for  she  appears  to  me 
Mvery  night.     I  can  get  no  rest.'     ^  Did  you  know  the 


WAR    RECOVERED.  403 

woman  you  say  appears  to  you?'  ' I  was  poorly  lodged, 
sir,  near  the  barracks,  and  I  often  saw  and  spoke  to  her 
as  she  went  in  and  Out  to  the  barracks;  and  she  called 
herself  Maloy.' 

"  I  made  inquiry,  and  found  that  a  woman  of  that  name 
had  died  who  had  acted  as  washerwoman  and  followed 
the  regiment.  Following  up  the  inquiry,  I  found  a  grocer 
with  whom  she  had  dealt,  and,  on  asking  him  if  a  person, 
a  female,  named  Maloy  owed  him  any  thing,  he  turned  up 
his  books,  and  told  me  she  did  owe  him  three-and-tenpence. 
I  paid  the  sum.  The  grocer  knew  nothing  of  her  death, 
nor,  indeed,  of  her  character,  but  that  she  was  attached 
to  the  barracks.  Subsequently  the  Presbyterian  woman 
came  to  me,  saying  that  she  was  no  more  troubled."* 

It  is  not  a  plausible  supposition,  in  this  case,  that  for 
so  paltry  a  sum  a  tradesman  should  concert  with  an 
old  woman  (she  was  past  seventy  years  of  age)  to  trump 
up  a  story  of  an  apparition  and  impose  on  the  good 
nature  and  credulity  of  a  priest.  Had  it  been  such  a 
trick,  too,  it  is  scarcely  supposable  that  the  woman 
should  not  have  mentioned  the  grocer's  name,  but  should 
have  left  the  reverend  gentleman  to  grope  after  the 
creditor  as  he  best  might. 

If  the  whole  was  related  in  good  faith,  the  indica- 
tion seems  to  be  that  human  character  may  be  but 
little  altered  by  the  death-change, — sometimes  pre- 
serving in  another  state  of  existence  not  only  trifling 
recollections,  but  trivial  cares. 

Some  narratives  appear  to  favor  the  supposition  that 
not  the  criminal  only,  but  the  victim  of  his  crime,  may, 
at  times,  be  attracted  in  spirit  to  the  earthly  scene  of 
Buffering     The  Hydesville  story  may  have  been  an  ex- 

•  '^Anatomif  of  Sleep,"  by  Edward  Binns,  M.D.,  pp.  462,  463. 


104  STORY   COMMUNICATED 

umple  of  this.  While  in  Paris,  in  the  spring  of  1859,  1 
obtained  what  appears  to  be  another.  The  narrative 
was  communicated  to  me  by  a  clergyman  of  the  Church 

of  England,  the  Eev.  Dr. ,  Chaplain  to  the  British 

Legation  at .  Having  heard  from  a  brother  clergy- 
man something  of  the  story,  I  asked,  by  letter,  to  be 
favored  with  it;  stating,  in  general  terms,  the  purpose 
of  my  work.  The  request  was  kindly  complied  with, 
and  produced  an  interesting  contribution  to  this  branch 
of  the^ubject.   ' 

THE  STAINS    OF  BLOOD. 

"  In  the  year  185-  I  was  staying,  with  my  wife  and 

children,  at  the  favorite  watering-place .     In  order 

to  attend  to  some  affairs  of  my  own,  I  determined 
to  leave  my  family  there  for  three  or  four  days.  Ac- 
cordingly, on  the  — th  of  August,  I  took  the  railway, 

and  arrived  that  evening,  an  unexpected  guest,  at 

Hall,  the  residence  of  a  gentleman  whose  acquaintance 
I  had  recently  made,  and  with  whom  my  sister  was 
then  staying. 

"  I  arrived  late,  soon  afterward  went  to  bed,  and 
before  long  fell  asleep.  Awaking  after  three  or  four 
hours,  I  was  not  surprised  to  find  I  could  sleep  no 
more;  for  I  never  rest  well  in  a  strange  bed.  After 
trying,  therefore,  in  vain  again  to  induce  sleep,  I  began 
to  arrange  my  plans  for  the  day. 

"  I  had  been  engaged  some  little  time  in  this  way, 
when  I  became  suddenly  sensible  that  there  was  a  light 
in  the  room.  Turning  round,  I  distinctly  perceived  a 
female  figure;  and  what  attracted  my  special  attention 
was,  that  the  light  by  which  I  saw  it  emanated  from  itself. 
I  watched  the  figure  attentively.  The  features  were 
not  perceptible.  After  moving  a  little  distance,  it  dis- 
appeared as  suddenly  as  it  had  aj^peared. 

«  My  first  thoughts  were  that  there  was  some  trick. 


BY    A    BRITISH    CHAPLAIN.  406 

I  immediately  got  out  of  bed,  struck  a  light,  and  found 
my  bedroom-door  still  locked.  I  then  carefully  exa- 
mined the  walls,  to  ascertain  if  there  were  any  other 
concealed  means  of  entrance  or  exit;  but  none  could  I 
find.  I  drew  the  curtains  and  opened  the  shutters; 
but  all  outside  was  silent  and  dark,  there  being  no 
moonlight. 

"After  examining  the  room  well  in  every  part,  I 
betook  myself  to  bed  and  thought  calmly  over  the 
whole  matter.  The  final  impression  on  my  mind  was, 
that  I  had  seen  something  supernatural,  and,  if  super- 
natural, that  it  was  in  some  way  connected  with  my 
wnfe.  What  was  the  appearance?  What  did  it  mean? 
Would  it  have  appeared  to  me  if  I  had  been  asleep 
instead  of  awake?  These  were  questions  very  easy  to 
ask  and  very  difficult  to  answer. 

"Even  if  my  room-door  had  been  unlocked,  or  if 
there  had  been  a  concealed  entrance  to  the  room,  a 
practical  joke  was  out  of  the  question.  For,  in  the 
first  place,  I  was  not  on  such  intimate  terms  with 
my  host  as  to  warrant  such  a  liberty;  and,  secondly, 
even  if  he  had  been  inclined  to  sanction  so  question- 
able a  proceeding,  he  was  too  unwell  at  the  time  to 
permit  me  for  a  moment  to  entertain  such  a  sup- 
position. 

"  In  doubt  and  uncertainty  I  passed  the  rest  of  the 
night;  and  in  the  morning,  descending  early,  I  imme- 
diately told  my  sister  what  had  occurred,  describing 
to  her  accurately  every  thing  connected  with  the  ap- 
pearance I  had  witnessed.  She  seemed  much  struck 
with  what  I  told  her,  and  replied,  'It  is  very  odd;  for 
you  have  heard,  I  dare  say,  that  a  lady  was,  some 
years  ago,  murdered  in  this  house ;  but  it  was  not  in 
the  room  you  slept  in.'  I  answered,  that  I  had  never 
heard  any  thing  of  the  kind,  and  was  beginning  to 
make  further  inquiries  about  the  murder,  when  I  was 


406  THE    STAINS   OF   BLOOD 

interrupted  by  the  entrance  of  our  host  and  hostess, 
t.nd  afterward  bj-  breakfast. 

"After  breakfast  I  left,  ■wi4;hout  having  had  any 
opportunity  of  renewing  the  conversation.  But  the 
whole  affair  had  made  upon  me  an  impression  which 
I  sought  in  vain  to  shake  oif.  The  female  figure  was 
ever  before  my  mind's  eye,  and  I  became  fidget}^  and 
anxious  about  my  wife.  *  Could  it  in  any  way  be 
connected  with  her?'  w^as  my  constantly  recurring 
thought.  So  much  did  this  weigh  on  my  mind  that, 
instead  of  attending  to  the  business  for  the  express 
purpose  of  transacting  which  I  had  left  my  family,  I 
returned  to  them  by  the  first  train;  and  it  was  only 
when  I  saw  my  wife  and  children  in  good  health,  and 
every  thing  safe  and  well  in  my  household,  that  I  felt 
satisfied  that,  whatever  the  nature  of  the  app'^arance 
might  have  been,  it  was  not  connected  with  any  evil  to 
them. 

"  On  the  Wednesday  following,  I  received  ?•  letter 
from  my  sister,  in  which  she  informed  me  that,  since  1 
left,  she  had  ascertained  that  the  murder  was  com- 
mitted in  the  very  room  in  which  I  had  slept.  She 
added  that  she  purposed  visiting  us  next  day,  ?nd  that 
she  would  like  me  to  write  out  an  account  of  what  I 
had  seen,  together  with  a  plan  of  the  room,  and 
that  on  that  plan  she  wished  me  to  mark  the  place 
of  the  appearance,  and  of  the  disappearance^  of  the 
figure. 

"  This  I  immediately  did ;  and  the  next  day,  when 
my  sister  arrived,  she  asked  me  if  I  had  complied  with 
her  request.  I  replied,  pointing  to  the  drawing-room 
table,  'Yes  :  there  is  the  account  and  the  plan.'  As  she 
rose  to  examine  it,  I  prevented  her,  saying,  'Do  not 
look  at  it  until  you  have  told  me  all  you  have  to  say, 
because  you  might  unintentionally  color  your  story  by 
wliat  you  may  read  there.' 


FOUND    TO    CORRESPOND.  407 

"Thereupon  she  informed  me  that  8he  had  had  the 
carpet  taken  up  in  the  room  I  had  occupied,  and  that 
the  marks  of  blood  from  the  murdered  person  were 
there,  phiinly  visible,  on  a  particular  part  of  the  floor. 
At  my  request  she  also  then  drew  a  plan  of  the  room, 
and  marked  upon  it  the  spots  which  still  bore  traces  of 
blood. 

"  The  two  plans — my  sister's  and  mine — were  then 
compared,  and  we  verified  the  most  remarkable  fact 
that  the  places  she  had  marked  as  the  beginning  and  ending 
of  the  traces  of  blood  coincided  exactly  with  the  spots 
marked  on  my  plan  as  those  on  which  the  female  figure  had 
appeared  and  disappeared. 

**  I  am  unable  to  add  any  thing  to  this  plain  state- 
ment of  facts.  I  cannot  account,  in  any  way,  for  what 
I  saw.  I  am  convinced  no  human  being  entered  my 
chamber  that  night;  yet  I  know  that,  being  wide  awake 
and  in  good  health,  I  did  distinctly  see  a  female  figure 
in  my  room.  But  if,  as  I  must  believe,  it  was  a  super- 
natural appearance,  then  I  am  unable  to  suggest  any 
reason  why  it  should  have  appeared  to  me.  I  cannot 
tell  whether,  if  I  had  not  been  in  the  room,  or  had  been 
asleep  at  the  time,  that  figure  would  equally  have  been 
there.  As  it  was,  it  seemed  connected  with  no  warning 
nor  presage.  No  misfortune  of  any  kind  happened  then, 
or  since,  to  me  or  mine.  It  is  true  that  the  host,  ai 
whose  house  1  was  staying  when  this  incident  occurred, 
and  also  one  of  his  children,  died  a  few  months  after- 
ward; but  I  cannot  pretend  to  make  out  any  con- 
nection between  either  of  these  deaths  and  the  appear- 
ance I  witnessed.  The  *  cui  bono,'  therefore,  I  do  not 
attempt  to  explain.  But  what  I  distinctly  saw,  that, 
and  that  only,  I  describe."* 


*  Commuoicated  to  me,  under  date  April  25,  1859,  in  a  letter  from  the 
Rev.  Dr. ,  who  informs  me  that  the  relation  is  in  Um  very  words,  »o 


408  EVIDENTLY    NOT    CHANCE. 

In  this  case,  the  narrative  bears  testimony  to  accu- 
racy and  dispassionate  coolness  in  the  observer.  It  ia 
one  of  those  examples,  also,  which  give  support  to  the 
opinion  that  such  phenomena  sometimes  present  them- 
selves without  any  special  purpose  so  far  as  we  can  dis- 
cover. Moreover,  it  is  evident  that  sufficient  pre- 
cautions were  taken  to  prevent  the  possibility  of 
suggestion  becoming  the  cause  of  the  coincidence 
between  the  two  plans  of  the  room, — that  executed 
by  the  brother  and  that  afterward  drawn  by  the 
sister.  They  were,  clearly,  made  out  quite  indepen- 
dently of  each  other.  And  if  so,  to  what  can  wo 
ascribe  the  coincidence  they  exhibited  ?  Evidently,  not 
to  chance. 

In  the  preceding  cases,  the  attraction  to  earth  seems 
to  have  been  of  a  painful  nature.  But  a  more  frequent 
and  influential  motive  seems  to  be  that  great  principle 
of  human  love,  which  even  in  this  world,  cold  though 
it  be,  is  the  most  powerful  incentive  to  virtue,  and 
which  in  another  will  doubtless  assert  far  more 
supremely  its  genial  sway.  It  may  be  the  affection 
of  remote  kindred,  apparently  evinced  by  some  ances- 
tor, or  the  stronger  love  of  brother  to  sister,  of  parent 
to  child,  of  husband  to  wife.  Of  the  last  an  example 
will  be  found  in  the  following  narrative,  for  which  I  am 
indebted  to  the  kindness  of  London  friends;  and  though, 
in  accordance  with  the  wishes  of  the  family,  some  of  the 
names  are  initialized  only,  they  are  all  known  to  myself. 
Of  the  good  faith  of  the  narrators  there  cannot  be  a 
doubt. 


far  as  his  memory  serves,  in  which  the  narrator,  his  brother,  repeated  it  to 
him.  Though  not  at  liberty  to  print  the  reverend  gentleman's  name,  lie 
has  permitted  me  to  furnish  it  privately  in  any  case  in  which  it  mighi 
Mrve  the  cause  to  advance  which  these  pages  have  been  written. 


APPARITION    AT   CAMBRIBOE,    ENGLAND.  400 


THE  FOURTEENTH  OF  NOVEMBER. 

In   the  month  of  September,   1857,   Captain  G 

W ,  of  the  6th  (Inniskilling)  Dragoons,  went  out  to 

India  to  join  his  recjiment. 

His  wife  remained  in  England,  residing  at  Cambridge. 
On  the  night  between  the  14th  and  15th  of  November, 
1857,  toward  morning,  she  dreamed  that  she  saw  her 
husband,  looking  anxious  and  ill, — upon  which  she  im- 
mediately awoke,  much  agitated.  It  was  bright  moon- 
light;  and,  looking  up,  she  perceived  the  same  figure  stand- 
ing by  her  bedside.  He  appeared  in  his  uniform,  the  hands 
pressed  across  the  breast,  the  hair  disheveled,  the  face 
very  pale.  His  large  dark  eyes  were  fixed  full  upon 
her;  their  expression  was  that  of  great  excitement,  and 
there  was  a  peculiar  contraction  of  the  mouth,  habitual 
to  him  when  agitated.  She  saw  him,  even  to  each 
minute  particular  of  his  dress,  as  distinctly  as  she  had 
ever  done  in  her  life;  and  she  remembers  to  have 
noticed  between  his  hands  the  white  of  the  shirt-bosom, 
unstained,  however,  with  blood.  The  figure  seemed  to 
bend  forward,  as  if  in  pain,  and  to  make  an  effort  to 
speak ;  but  there  was  no  sound.  It  remained  visible, 
the  wife  thinks,  as  long  as  a  minute,  and  then  disappeared. 

Her  first  idea  was  to  ascertain  if  she  was  actually 
awake.  She  rubbed  her  eyes  with  the  sheet,  and  felt 
that  the  touch  was  real.  Her  little  nephew  was  in  bed 
■with  her:  she  bent  over  the  sleeping  child  and  listened 
to  its  breathing;  the  sound  was  distinct;  and  she 
became  convinced  that  what  she  had  seen  was  no 
dream.  It  need  hardly  be  added  that  she  did  not  again 
go  to  sleep  that  night. 

Next  morning  she  related  all  this  to  her  mother, 
expressing   her  conviction,  though  she  had  noticed  no 

marks  of  blood  on  his  dress,  that  Captain  W wae 

either  killed  or  grievously  wounded.   So  fully  impressed 


410        DOUBTS  CREATED  AS  TO  ACCURACT 

was  she  with  the  reality  of  that  apparition  that  she 
thenceforth  refused  all  invitations.  A  young  friend 
urged  her,  soon  afterward,  to  go  with  her  to  a  fashion- 
able concert,  reminding  her  that  she  had  received  from 
Malta,  sent  by  her  husband,  a  handsome  dress-cloak, 
which  she  had  never  yet  worn.  But  she  positively  declined, 
declaring  that,  uncertain  as  she  was  whether  she  was 
not  already  a  widow,  she  -v^ould  never  enter  a  place  of 
amusement  until  she  had  letters  from  her  husband  (if, 
indeed,  he  still  lived)  of  later  date  than  the  14th  of 
November. 

It  was  on  a  Tuesday  in  the  month  of  December,  1857, 
that  the  telegram  regarding  the  actual  fate  of  Captain 

W was  published  in  London.     It  was  to  the  effect 

that  he  was  killed  before  Lucknow  on  the  fifteenth  of  No- 
vember. 

This  news,  given  in  the  morning  paper,  attracted  the 
attention  of  Mr.  Wilkinson,  a  London  solicitor,  who  had 

in  charge  Captain  W 's    affairs.     When   at  a  later 

period  this  gentleman  met  the  widow,  she  informed  him 
that  she  had  been  quite  prepared  for  the  melancholy 
news,  but  that  she  felt  sure  her  husband  could  not  have 
been  killed  on  the  16th  of  November,  inasmuch  as  it  was 
during  the  night  between  the  14th  and  15th  that  he  ap- 
peared to  herself* 

The  certificate  from  the  War  Office,  however,  which  it 
became  Mr.  Wilkinson's  duty  to  obtain,  confirmed  the  ' 
date  given  in  the  telegram ;  its  tenor  being  as  follows : — 

♦  The  diflference  of  longitude  between  London  and  Lucknow  being  about 
fire  hours,  three  or  four  o'clock  a.m.  in  London  would  be  eight  or  nine 
o'clock  A.M.  at  Lucknow.     But  it  was  in  the  afternoon,  not  in  the  morning, 

as  will  be  seen  in  the  sequel,  that  Captain  W was  killed.     Had  he  fallen 

on  the  15th,  therefore,  the  apparition  to  his  wife  would  have  appeared 
several  hours  before  the  engagement  in  which  he  fell,  and  while  he  was  yet 
•live  and  well. 


OF   A   WAE-OFFICE   CERTIFICATE.  411 

„„     9579  War  OrncE, 

1  30th  January,  1858. 

"These  are  to  certify  that  it  appears,  by  the  records 

in  this  office,  that   Captain  G W ,  of  the   6th 

Dragoon  Guards,  was  killed  in  action  on  the  15th  No- 
vember, 1857.*  (Signed)  B.  Hawes." 

While  Mr.  Wilkinson's  mind  remained  in  uncertainty 
as  to  the  exact  date,  a  remarkable  incident  occurred, 
which  seemed  to  cast  further  suspicion  on  the  accuracy 
of  the  telegram  and  of  the  certificate.  That  gentleman 
was  visiting  a  friend,  whose  lady  has  all  her  life  had 
perception  of  ajiparitions,  while  her  husband  is  what  is 
usually  called  an  impressible  medium;  facts  which  are 
known,  however,  only  to  their  intimate  friends.  Though 
personally  acquainted  with  them,  I  am  not  at  liberty  to 
give  their  names.   Let  us  call  them  Mr.  and  Mrs.  N . 

Mr.  Wilkinson  related  to  them,  as  a  wonderful  cir- 
cumstance, the  vision  of  the  captain's  widow  in  connec- 
tion with  his  death,  and  described  the  figure  as  it  had 

appeared  to  her.     Mrs.  N- ,  turning  to  her  husband, 

instantly  said,  "That  must  be  the  very  person  I  saw, 
the  evening  we  were  talking  of  India,  and  you  drew  an 
elephant,  with  a  howdah  on  his  back.  Mr.  Wilkinson 
has  described  his  exact  position  and  appearance;  the 
uniform  of  a  British  officer,  his  hands  pressed  across  his 
breast,  his  form  bent  forward  as  if  in  pain.  The  figure," 
she  added  to  Mr.  W-' ,  "appeared  just  behind  my  hus- 
band, and  seemed  looking  over  his  left  shoulder." 

"  Did  you  attempt  to  obtain  any  communication  from 
him?"  Mr.  Wilkinson  asked. 

"Yes:  we  procured  one  through  the  medium  of  my 
husband." 

"  Do  5''0u  remember  its  purport?" 

•  Into  this  certificate,  of  which  I  possess  the  original,  an  error  ha« 

•xwpt.    Captain  G W was  of  th«  <kh  (Inniskilling)  Itragooni^  aol 

of  tb*  6t]i  Dragoon  Ooards. 


412  FURTHER   CONFIRMATION. 

"It  was  to  the  effect  that  he  had  been  killed  in  India 
that  afternoon,  by  a  wound  in  the  breast ;  and  adding,  as 
I  distinctly  remember,  '  That  thing  I  used  to  go  about  in 
is  not  buried  yet/  I  particularly  marked  the  expression." 

"When  did  this  happen  '/" 

"About  nine  o'clock  in  the  evening,  several  weeks 
ago;  but  I  do  not  recollect  the  exact  date." 

"  Can  3^ou  not  call  to  mind  something  that  might  en- 
able you  to  fix  the  precise  day  ?" 

]y£ps.  ;n^ reflected.    "  I  remember  nothing,"  she  said, 

at  last,  "  except  that  while  my  husband  was  drawing,  and 
I  was  talking  to  a  lady  friend  who  had  called  to  see  us, 
we  were  interrupted  by  a  servant  bringing  in  a  bill  for 
some  German  vinegar,  and  that,  as  1  recommended  it  as 
being  superior  to  English,  we  had  a  bottle  brought  in  for 
inspection." 

"  Did  you  pay  the  bill  at  the  time  ?" 

"Yes:  I  sent  out  the  money  by  the  servant." 

"  Was  the  bill  receipted  V 

"I  think  so;  but  I  have  it  up-stairs,  and  can  soon 
ascertain." 

Mrs.  N produced  the  bill.     Its  receipt  bore  date 

the  fourteenth  of  November ! 

This  confirmation  of  the  widow's  conviction  as  to  the 
day  of  her  husband's  death  produced  so  much  impression 
on  Mr.  Wilkinson,  that  he  called  at  the  office  of  Messrs. 
Cox  &  Ureenwood,  the  army  agents,  to  ascertain  if  there 
was  no  mistake  in  the  certificate.  But  nothing  there 
appeared  to  confirm  any  surmise  of  inaccuracy.  Cap- 
tain W 's  death  was  mentioned  in  two  separate  dis- 
patches of  Sir  Colin  Campbell;  and  in  both  the  date 
corresponded  with  that  given  in  the  telegram. 

So  matters  rested,  until,  in  the  month  of  March,  1858, 

the   family  of  Captain  W received   from   Captain 

G C ,  then  of  the  Military  Train,  a  letter  dated 

near  Lucknow,  on  the  19th  December,  1857.     Thi;j  lotler 


OP  THE  DOUBTS  ENTERTAINED.  413 

informed  them  that  Captain  W had  been  killed  be- 
fore Lueknow,  while  guUuntly  leading  on  the  equndron, 
not  on  the  15th  of  November,  as  reported  in  Sir  Colin 
Canipbcirs  dispatches,  but  on  the  fourteenth^  in  the  after- 
noon.    Captain  C was  riding  close  by  his  side  at  the 

time  he  saw  him  fall.  He  was  struck  by  a  fragment  of 
shell  in  the  breast,  and  never  spoke  after  he  was  hit.  lie 
was  buried  at  the  Dilkoosha;  and  on  a  wooden  cross 
erected  by  his  friend.  Lieutenant  E of  the  9th  Lan- 
cers, at  the  head  of  his  grave,  are  cut  the  initials  G.  W. 
and  the  date  of  his  death,  the  14th  of  November,  1857.* 

The  War  Office  finally  made  the  correction  as  to  the 
date  of  death,  but  not  until  more  than  a  year  after  the 
event  occurred.  Mr.  Wilkinson,  having  occasion  to  apply 
for  an  additional  copy  of  the  certificate  in  April,  1859, 
found  it  in  exactly  the  same  words  as  that  which  I  have 
given,  only  that  the  14th  of  November  had  been  substi- 
tuted for  the  ISth.f 

This  extraordinary  narrative  was  obtained  by  me 
directly  from  the  parties   themselves.     The  widow  of 

Captain  W kindly  consented  to  examine  and  correct 

the  manuscript,  and  allowed  me  to  inspect  a  cop}'  of 

Captain    C 's   letter,  giving  the   particulars  of  her 

husband's  death.  To  Mr.  Wilkinson,  also,  the  manu- 
script was  submitted,  and  he  assented  to  its  accuracy  so 
far  as  he  is  concerned.  That  portion  which  relates  to 
Mrs.  N I  had  from  that  lady  herself     I  ha\o  neg- 


*  It  was  not  in  his  own  regiment,  which  was  then  at  Meerut,  that  Cap- 
tain W was  serving  at  the  time  of  his  death.     Immediately  on  arriving 

from  Eughind  at  Cawnpore,  he  had  offered  his  services  to  Culonel  Wilson, 
of  the  64th.  They  were  at  first  declined,  but  finally  accepted  ;  and  he  joined 
the  Military  Train,  then  starting  for  Lueknow.  It  was  in  their  ranks  that 
he  foil. 

I  The  originals  of  both  these  certificates  are  in  my  possession :  the  first 
bearing  date  30th  January,  1858,  and  certifying,  as  already  shown,  to  the 
L5th;  the  second  dated  5tb  April,  1859,  and  testifving  to  the  14tb. 
85* 


414  EXAMPLE   OF   A   DOUBLE   APPARITION. 

lected  no  precaution,  therefore,  to  obtain  for  it  the  war- 
rant of  authenticity. 

It  is,  pei'haps,  the  only  example  on  record  where  the 
appearance  of  what  is  usually  termed  a  ghost  proved 
the  means  of  correcting  an  erroneous  date  in  the  dis- 
patches of  a  commander-in-chief,  and  of  detecting  an 
inaccuracj^  in  the  certificate  of  a  War  Office. 

It  is  especially  valuable,  too,  as  furnishing  an  example 
cf  a  double  apparition.  Nor  can  it  be  alleged  (even  if 
the  allegation  had  weight)  that  the  recital  of  one  lady 
caused  the  apparition  of  the  same  figure  to  the  other. 

Mrs.  W was  at  the  time  in  Cambridge,  and  Mrs.  N 

in  London ;  and  it  was  not  till  weeks  after  the  occurrence 
that  either  knew  what  the  other  had  seen. 

Those  who  would  explain  the  whole  on  the  principle 
of  chance  coincidence  have  a  treble  event  to  take  into 

account:  the  apparition  to  Mrs.  N ,  that  to  Mrs.  W , 

and  the  actual  time  of  Captain  W 's  death ;  each  tally- 
ing exactly  with  the  other. 

Examples  of  apparitions  at  the  moment  of  death  might 
be  multiplied  without  number.  Many  persons — especially 
in  Germany — who  believe  in  no  other  species  of  appari- 
tion admit  this.  Anzeigen  is  the  German  term  employed 
to  designate  such  an  intimation  from  the  newly  dead. 

Compelled  by  lack  of  space,  I  shall  here  close  the  hst 
of  narratives  connected  with  alleged  apparitions  of  the 
dead,  by  giving  one — certainly  not  the  least  remarkable 
— a  portion  of  the  corroborative  proofs  of  which  were 
sought  out  and  obtained  by  myself. 

THE  OLD  KENT  MANOR-HOUSE. 

In  October,  1857,  and  for  several  months  afterward,  Mrs. 
1^ ,*  wife  of  a  field-officer  of  high  rank  in  the  Britisn 

♦  The  initials  of  the  two  names  here  given  are  not  the  actual  ones ;  but 
I  have  the  pleasure  of  a  personal  acquaintance  w Mh  both  th««je  ladies. 


APPARITION    IN    KENT,   ENGLAND.  415 

army,  was  residing  in  Ramhurst  Manor-House,  n<»ar 
Leigh,  in  Kent,  England.  From  the  time  of  her  first 
occupying  this  ancient  residence,  every  inmate  of  the 
house  had  been  more  or  less  disturbed  at  night — not 
usually  during  the  day — by  knockings  and  sounds  as  oi 
footsteps,  but  more  especially  by  voices  which  could  not 
be  accounted  for.  These  last  were  usually  heard  in  some 
unoccupied  adjoining  room;  sometimes  as  if  talking  in  a 
loud  tone,  sometimes  as  if  reading  aloud,  occasionally  as 
if  screaming.     The  servants  were  much  alarmed.     They 

never  saw  any  thing;  but  the  cook  told  Mrs.  R that 

on  one  occasion,  in  broad  daylight,  hearing  the  rustle  of 
a  silk  dress  close  behind  her,  and  which  seemed  to  touch 
her,  she  turned  suddenly  round,  supposing  it  to  be  her 
mistress,  but,  to  her  great  surprise  and  terror,  could  see 

nobody.     Mrs.  R 's   brother,   a  bold,   light-hearted 

young  officer,  fond  of  field-sports,  and  without  the 
slightest  faith  in  the  reality  of  visitations  from  another 
world,  was  much  disturbed  and  annoyed  by  these  voices, 
which  he  declared  must  be  those  of  his  sister  and  of  a 
lady  friend  of  hers,  sitting  up  together  to  chat  all  night. 
On  two  occasions,  when  a  voice  which  he  thought  to 
resemble  his  sister's  rose  to  a  scream,  as  if  imploring 
aid,  he  rushed  from  his  room,  at  two  or  three  o'clock  in 
the  morning,  gun  in  hand,  into  his  sister's  bedroom, 
there  to  find  her  quietly  asleep. 

On  the  second  Saturday  in  the  above  month  of  Oc- 
tober, Mrs.  R drove  over  to  the  railway-station  at 

Tunbridge,  to  meet  her  friend  Miss  S ,  whom  she 

hud  invited  to  spend  some  weeks  with  her.  This  young 
lady  had  been  in  the  habit  of  seeing  apparitions,  at  times, 
from  early  childhood. 

When,  on  their  return,  at  about  four  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon,  they  drove  up  to  the  entrance  of  the  manor 

house.  Miss  S perceived  on  the  threshold  the  ap- 

poarance  of  two  figures,  apparently  an  elderly  couple, 


416  TWO    LADIES    WITNESS 

habited  in  the  costume  of  a  former  age.  They  appeared 
as  if  standing  on  the  ground.  She  did  not  hear  any 
voice;  and,  not  wishing  to  render  her  friend  uneasy,  she 
made  at  that  time  no  remark  to  her  in  connection  with 
this  apparition. 

She  saw  the  appearance  of  the  same  figures,  in  the 
same  dress,  several  times  within  the  next  ten  days, 
sometimes  in  one  of  the  rooms  of  the  house,  sometimes 
in  one  of  the  passages, — always  by  daylight.  They  ap- 
peared to  her  surrounded  by  an  atmosphere  nearly  of 
the  color  usually  called  neutral  tint.  On  the  third  occa- 
sion they  spoke  to  her,  and  stated  that  they  had  been 
husband  and  wife,  that  in  former  days  they  had  pos- 
sessed and  occupied  that  manor-house,  and  that  their 
name  was  Children.  They  appeared  sad  and  downcast ; 
and,  when  Miss  S inquired  the  cause  of  their  melan- 
choly, they  replied  that  they  had  idolized  this  property 
of  theirs;  that  their  pride  and  pleasure  had  centered  in 
its  possession ;  that  its  improvement  had  engrossed  their 
thoughts;  and  that  it  troubled  them  to  know  that  it  had 
passed  away  from  their  family  and  to  see  it  now  in  tho 
hands  of  careless  strangers. 

I  asked  Miss  S how  they  spoke.     She  replied  that 

the  voice  was  audible  to  her  as  that  of  a  human  being's; 
and  that  she  believed  it  was  heard  also  by  others  in  an 
adjoining  room.  This  she  inferred  from  the  fact  that 
she  was  afterward  asked  with  whom  she  had  been  con- 
versing.* 

After  a  week  or  two,  Mrs.  E ,  beginning  to  suspect 

that  something  unusual,  connected  with  the  constant 
disturbances  in  the  house,  had  occurred  to  her  friend, 

♦  Yet  this  is  not  conclusive.     It  might  have  been  Miss  S 's  voice 

only  that  was  heard,  not  any  reply — though  heard  by  her — made  by  the 
apparitions.  Visible  to  her,  they  were  invisible  to  others.  Audible  to  her> 
they  may  to  others  have-  been  inaudible  also. 

Yet  it  is  certain  that  the  voices  at  night  were  heard  equally  by  all. 


THE   SAME   APPARITION.  417 

qnestioned   her  closely  on  the  subject;  and  then  Miss 

S related  to  her  what   she    hud   seen   and   heard, 

describing  the  appearance  and  relating  the  conversa- 
tion of  the  figures  calling  themselves  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Chil- 
dren. 

Up  to  that  time,  Mrs.  K ,  though  her  rest  had 

been  frequently  broken  by  the  nc  ises  in  the  house,  and 
though  she  too  has  the  occasional  perception  of  appa- 
ritions, had  seen  nothing;  nor  did  any  thing  appear  to 
her  for  a  month  afterward.  One  day,  however,  about 
the  end  of  that  time,  when  she  had  ceased  to  expect 
any  apparition  to  herself,  she  was  hurriedly  dressing  for 
a  late  dinner, — her  brother,  who  had  just  returned  from 
a  day's  shooting,  having  called  to  her  in  impatient  tones 
that  dinner  was  served  and  that  he  was  quite  famished. 
At  the  moment  of  completing  her  toilet,  and  as  she 
hastily  turned  to  leave  her  bed-chamber,  not  dreaming 
of  any  thing  spiritual,  there  in  the  doorway  stood  the 

same  female  figure  Miss  S had  described, — identica\ 

in  appearance  and  in  costume,  even  to  the  old  point-laco 
on  her  brocaded  silk  dress, — while  beside  her,  on  the  left, 
but  less  distinctly  visible,  was  the  figure  of  her  husband. 
They  uttered  no  sound;  but  above  the  figure  of  the  lady, 
as  if  written  in  phosphoric  light  in  the  dusk  atmosphere 
that  surrounded  her,  were  the  words  ^^ Dame  Children" 
together  with  some  other  words,  intimating  that,  having 
never  aspired  beyond  thejoj'S  and  sorrows  of  this  world, 
she  had  remained  "earth-bound."  These  last,  however, 
Mrs.  E scarcely  paused  to  decipher;  for  a  renewed  ap- 
peal froni  her  brother,  as  to  whether  they  were  to  have 
any  djnner  that  day,  urged  her  forward.  The  figure,  fill- 
ing up  the  doorwa}^,  remained  stationary.  There  was  no 
time  for  hesitation  :  she  closed  her  eyes,  rushed  through 
the  apparition  and  into  the  dining-room,  throwing  up 

her  hands  and  exclaiming  to  Miss  S ,  "  Oh,  my  dear, 

I've  walked  through  Mrs.  Childreii  I" 


4 IS  CORROBORATION    OBTAINED 

This  vrtis  the  only  time  during  her  residence  in  the 
old  manor-house  that  Mrs.  K witnessed  the  appa- 
rition of  these  figures. 

And  it  is  to  be  remarked  that  her  bed-chamber,  at  the 
time,  was  lighted,  not  only  by  candles,  but  by  a  cheerful 
fire,  and  that  there  was  a  lighted  lamp  in  the  corridor 
which  communicated  thence  to  the  dining-room. 

This  repetition  of  the  word  "Children"  caused  the  ladies 
to  make  inquiries  among  the  servants  and  in  the  neigh- 
borhood whether  any  family  bearing  that  name  had 
ever  occupied  the  manor-house.  Among  those  whom 
they  thougiit  likely  to  know  something  about  it  was  a 

Mrs.  Sophy  O ,  a  nurse  in  the  family,  who  had  spent 

her  life  in  that  vicinity.  But  all  inquiries  were  fruitless; 
every  one  to  whom  they  put  the  question,  the  nurse 
included,  declaring  that  they  had  never  heard  of  such 
a  name.  So  they  gave  up  all  hopes  of  being  able  to 
unravel  the  mystery. 

It  so  happened,  however,  that,  about  four  months 
afterward,  this  nurse,  going  home  for  a  holiday  to  her 
family  at  Eiverhead,  about  a  mile  from  Seven  Oaks,  and 
recollecting  that  one  of  her  sisters-in-law,  who  lived  near 
her,  an  old  woman  of  seventy,  had  fifty  years  before 
been  housemaid  in  a  family  then  residing  at  Eamhurst, 
inquired  of  her  if  she  had  ever  heard  any  thing  of  a 
family  named  Children.  The  sister-in-law  replied  that 
no  such  family  occupied  the  manor-house  when  she  was 
there ;  but  she  recollected  to  have  then  seen  an  old  man 
who  told  her  that  in  his  boyhood  he  had  assisted  to  keep 
the  hounds  of  the  Children  family,  who  were  then  re- 
siding at  Eamhurst.  This  information  the  nurse  com- 
municated to  Mrs.  E on  her  return;   and  thus  it 

was  that  that  lady  was  first  informed  that  a  family 
named  Children  really  had  once  occupied  the  manor* 
house. 

All  these  particulars  I  received   in  December,  1858, 


AFT£R   FOUR   MONTHS.  419 

drrectlj  from  the  ladies  themselves,  both  being  together 
at  the  time. 

Even  up  to  this  point  the  case,  as  it  presented  itsell, 
was  certainly  a  very  remarkable  one.  But  I  resolved, 
if  possible,  to  obtain  further  confirmation  in  the  matter. 

I  inquired  of  Miss  S whether  tlie  apparitions  had 

communicated  to  her  any  additional  particulars  con- 
nected with  the  family.  She  replied  that  she  recollected 
one  which  she  had  then  received  from  them,  namely, 
that  the  husband's  name  was  Richard.  At  a  subsequent 
period,  likewise,  she  had  obtained  the  date  of  Eichard 
Children's  death,  which,  as  communicated  to  her,  was 
1753.  She  remembered  also  that  on  one  occasion  a 
third  spirit  appeared  with  them,  which  they  stated  was 
their  son ;  but  she  did  not  get  his  name.  To  my  further 
inquiries  as  to  the  costumes  in  which  the  (alleged)  spirits 

appeared,  Miss  S replied  "that  they  were  of  the  period 

of  Queen  Anne  or  one  of  the  early  Georges,  she  could 
not  be  sure  which,  as  the  fashions  in  both  were  similar.'' 
These   were   her  exact  words.     Neither  she  nor  Mrs. 

R ,  however,  had  obtained  any  information  tending 

either  to  verify  or  to  refute  these  particulars. 

Having  an  invitation  from  some  friends  residing  near 
Seven  Oaks,  in  Kent,  to  spend  with  them  the  Christmas 
week  of  1858,  I  had  a  good  opportunity  of  prosecuting 
my  inquiries  in  the  way  of  verification. 

I  called,  with  a  friend,  Mr.  F ,  on  the  nurse,  Mrs. 

Sophy  O .     Without  alluding  to  the  disturbances,  1 

simply  asked  her  if  she  knew  any  thing  of  an  old  family 
of  the  name  of  Children.  She  said  she  knew  very  little 
except  what  she  had  heard  from  her  sister-in-law, 
namely,  that  they  used  in  former  days  to  live  at  a 
manor-house  called  Ramhurst.  I  asked  her  if  she  had 
ever  been  there.  "  Yes,"  she  said,  "  about  a  year  ago,  as 

nurse   to   Mrs.  B ."     "Did  Mrs.   R ,"   I   asked 

her, "  know  any  thing  about  the  Children  family  ?"    She 


t2U  TESTIMONY   OF   THE    NURSE 

replied  that  her  mistress  had  once  made  inquiries  of  hev 
aboui  them,  wishing  to  know  if  they  had  ever  occupied 
the  manor-house,  but  at  that  time  she  (Mrs.  Soph}*) 
had  never  heard  of  such  a  family  :  so  she  could  give  tho 
lady  no  satisfaction. 

"  How  did  it  happen,"  I  asked,  "  that  Mrs.  E sup- 
posed such  a  family  might  once  have  occupied  the 
house  ?" 

"  Well,  sir,"  she  replied,  "  that  is  more  than  I  can  tell 
you, — unless,  indeed,  [and  here  she  hesitated  and  lowered 
her  voice,]  it  was  through  a  young  lady  that  was  stajnng 
with  mistress.  Did  you  ever  hear,  sir,"  she  added, 
looking  around  her  in  a  mysterious  way,  "  of  what  they 
call  spirit-rappers  ?" 

I  intimated  that  I  had  heard  the  name. 

"  I'm  not  afraid  of  such  things,"  she  pursued :  "  1 
never  thought  they  would  harm  me;  and  I'm  not  ono 
of  your  believers  in  ghosts.  But  then,  to  be  sure,  wo 
did  have  such  a  time  in  that  old  house  I" 

"  Ah  !  what  sort  of  a  time  ?" 

"With  knockings,  sir,  and  the  noise  of  footsteps,  and 
people  talking  of  nights.  Many  a  time  I've  heard  the 
voices  when  I  was  going  along  the  passage  at  two  or 
three  o'clock  in  the  morning,  canying  the  baby  to  my 
mistress.  I  don't  believe  in  ghosts;  but  you  may  be 
sure,  sir,  it  was  something  serious  when  mistress's 
brother  got  up  in  the  middle  of  the  night  and  came  to 
his  sister's  room  with  his  loaded  gun  in  his  hand.  And 
then  there  was  another  brother :  he  got  out  of  his  bed  one 
night  and  declared  there  were  robbers  in  the  house." 

"Did  you  see  any  thing?" 

"No,  sir,  never." 

"  Nor  any  of  the  other  servants  ?" 

"I  think  not,  sir;  but  cook  was  so  frightened  I" 

"What  happened  to  her?" 

"  Well,  sir,  no  harm  happened  tp  hst^  exactly  :  only 


CONFIRMS   THE   FOREGOING.  42 J 

Bho  was  kneeling  down  making  her  fire  one  morning 
when  up  she  started  with  a  cry  like.  I  heard  her,  and 
came  in  to  see  what  was  the  matter.  *  Oh,'  says  she. 
'nurse,  if  I  didn't  hear  the  rustling  of  a  silk  dress  all 
across  the  kitchen!*  *Well,  cook,'  says  I,  'you  know 
it  couldn't  be  me,  being  I  never  wear  silk/  *No,'  says 
she, — and  she  sort  of  laughed, — 'no,  I  knew  it  wasn't 
you,  for  I've  heard  the  same  three  or  four  times  already; 
and  whenever  I  look  round  there's  nothing  there/  " 

I  thanked  the  good  woman,  and  then  went  to  see  the 
sister-in-law,  who  fully  confirmed  her  part  of  the  story 

But  as  all  this  afforded  no  clew  either  to  the  Christian 
name,  or  the  date  of  occupation,  or  the  year  of  Mr 
Children's  death,  I  visited,  in  search  of  these,  the 
church  and  graveyard  at  Leigh,  the  nearest  to  the 
Ramhurst  propert}^  and  the  old  church  at  Tunbridge; 
making  inquiries  in  both  places  on  the  subject.  But 
to  no  purpose.  All  I  could  learn  was,  that  a  certaiu 
George  Children  left,  in  the  year  1718,  a  weekly  gift  of 
bread  to  the  poor,  and  that  a  descendant  of  the  family, 
also  named  George,  dying  some  forty  years  ago,  and  net 
residing  at  Ramhurst,  had  a  marble  tablet,  in  the  Tun- 
bridge church,  erected  to  his  memory. 

Sextons  and  tombstones  having  failed  me,  a  friend 
suggested  that  I  might  possibly  obtain  the  information 
I  sought  by  visiting  a  neighboring  clergyman.  I  did  so, 
and  with  the  most  fortunate  result.  Simply  stating  to 
him  that  I  had  taken  the  liberty  to  call  in  search  of 
some  particulars  touching  the  early  history  of  a  Kentish 
family  of  the  name  of  Children,  he  replied  that,  singu- 
larly  enough,  he  was  in  possession  of  a  document,  coming 
to  him  through  a  private  source,  and  containing,  he 
thought  likely,  the  very  details  of  which  I  was  in  search. 
He  kindly  intrusted  it  to  mej  and  I  found  in  it,  among 
numerous  particulars  regarding  another  member  of  the 
family,  not  many  years  since  deceased,  certain  extracts 


122  THE   FAMILY   OF   CHILDREN. 

from  the  "Hasted  Papers,"  preserved  in  the  British  Mu- 
seum; these  being  contained  in  a  letter  addressed  by  ono 
of  the  members  of  the  Children  family  to  Mr.  Hasted. 
Of  this  document,  which  may  be  consulted  in  the  Museum 
librar}^,  I  here  transcribe  a  portion,  as  follows: — 

''The  family  of  Children  were  settled  for  a  great  many 
generations  at  a  house  called,  from  their  own  name, 
Childrens,  situated  at  a  place  called  Nether  Street,  other- 
wise Lower  Street,  in  Hildenborough,  in  the  parish  of 
Tunbridge.  George  Children  of  Lower  Street,  who  was 
High-Sheriff  of  Kent  in  1698,  died  without  issue  in  1718, 
and  by  will  devised  the  bulk  of  his  estate  to  Bichard 
Children,  eldest  son  of  his  late  uncle,  William  Children 
of  Hedcorn,  and  his  heirs.  This  Eichard  Children,  who 
settled  himself  at  Ramhurst,  in  the  parish  of  Leigh,  married 
Anne,  daughter  of  John  Saxby,  in  the  parish  of  Leeds, 
by  whom  he  had  issue  four  sons  and  two  daughters,"  &c. 

Thus  I  ascertained  that  the  first  of  the  Children 
family  who  occupied  Kamhurst  as  a  residence  was  named 
Richard,  and  that  he  settled  there  in  the  early  part  of 
the  reign  of  George  I.  The  year  of  his  death,  however, 
was  not  given. 

This  last  particular  I  did  not  ascertain  till  several 
months  afterward;  when  a  friend  versed  in  antiquarian 
lore,  to  whom  I  mentioned  my  desire  to  obtain  it, 
suggested  that  the  same  Hasted,  an  extract  from  whose 
papers  I  have  given,  had  published,  in  1778,  a  history 
of  Kent,  and  that,  in  that  work,  I  might  possibly  obtain 
the  information  I  sought.  In  effect,  after  considerable 
search,  I  there  found  the  following  paragraph : — 

"In  the  eastern  part  of  the  Parish  of  Lyghe,  (now 
Leigh,)  near  the  river  Medway,  stands  an  ancient  man- 
sion called  Ramhurst,  once  reputed  a  Manor  and  held 
of  the  honor  of  Gloucester."  ...  "It  continued  in  the 
Culpepper  family  for  several  generations."  .  .  .  "It  passed 
by  sale  into  that  of  Saxby,  and  Mr.  William  Saxby  con- 


ADDITIONAL   CORROBORATIVE   FACTS.  423 

veyed  it,  by  sale,  to  Children.  Eichard  Children,  Esq., 
resided  here,  ajid  died  possessed  of  it  in  1753,  aged  eighty- 
three  years.  He  was  succeeded  in  it  by  his  eldest  son, 
John  Children,  of  Tunbridge,  Esq.,  whose  son,  George 
Children,  of  Tunbridge,  Esq.,  is  the  present  possessor."* 

Thus  I  verified  the  last  remaining  particular,  the  date 
of  Richard  Children's  death.  It  appears  from  the  above, 
also,  that  Richard  Children  was  the  only  representative 
of  the  family  who  lived  and  died  at  Ramhurst;  his  son 
John  being  designated  not  as  of  Ramhurst,  but  as  of 
Tunbridge.  From  the  private  memoir  above  referred  to 
1  had  previously  ascertained  that  the  family  seat  after 
Richard's  time  was  Ferox  Hall,  near  Tunbridge. 

It  remains  to  be  added  that  in  1816,  in  consequence  of 
events  reflecting  no  discredit  on  the  family,  they  lost  all 
their  property,  and  were  compelled  to  sell  Ramhurst, 
which  has  since  been  occupied,  though  a  somewhat  spa- 
cious mansion,  not  as  a  family  residence,  but  as  a  farm- 
house. I  visited  it;  and  the  occupant  assured  me  that 
nothing  worse  than  rats  or  mice  disturbs  it  now. 

I  am  not  sure  that  I  have  found  on  record,  among 
what  are  usually  termed  ghost-stories,  any  narrative 
better  authenticated  than  the  foregoing.  It  involves, 
Indeed,  no  startling  or  romantic  particulars,  no  warning 
of  death,  no  disclosure  of  murder,  no  circumstances  of 
terror  or  danger;  but  it  is  all  the  more  reliable  on  that 
account;  since  those  passions  which  are  wont  to  excite 
and  mislead  tbe  imaginations  of  men  were  not  called 
into  play. 

It  was  communicated  to  me,  about  fourteen  months 
only  after  the  events  occurred,  by  both  the  chief  wit- 
nesses, and  incidentally  confirmed,  shortlj^  afterward, 
by  a  third. 

*  That  is,  in  1778,  when  the  work  was  published.  See,  for  the  aborv 
quotation,  Hasted's  History  of  Kent,  vol.  L  pp.  422  and  423. 


424  REMARKS   ON   THE 

The  social  position  and  personal  character  of  the  two 
ladies  to  whom  the  figures  appeared  preclude,  at  the 
outset,  all  idea  whatever  of  willful  misstatement  or  de- 
ception. The  sights  and  sounds  to  which  they  testify 
did  present  themselves  to  their  senses.  Whether  their 
senses  phiyed  them  false  is  another  question.  The 
theory  of  hallucination  remains  to  be  dealt  with.  Let 
us  inquire  whether  it  be  applicable  in  the  present  case. 

Miss  S first  saw  the  figures,  not  in  the  obscurity 

of  night,  not  between  sleeping  and  waking,  not  in  some 
old  chamber  reputed  to  be  haunted,  but  in  the  open  air, 
and  as  she  was  descending  from  a  carriage,  in  broad 
daylight.  Subsequently  she  not  only  saw  them,  but 
heard  them  speak;  and  that  always  in  daylight.  There 
are,  however,  cases  on  record  in  which  the  senses  of  heal- 
ing and  sight  are  alleged  to  have  been  both  halluci- 
nated; that  of  Tasso,  for  example.*  And  if  the  case 
rested  here,  such  is  the  interpretation  which  the  phy- 
sician would  put  upon  it. 

But  some  weeks  afterward  another  lady  sees  the  ap- 
pearance of  the  selfsame  figures.  This  complicates  the 
case.  For,  as  elsewhere  shown,-]-  it  is  generally  admitted, 
by  medical  writers  on  the  subject,  that,  while  cases  of 
collective  illusion  are  common,  it  is  doubtful  whether  there 
be  on  record  a  single  authentic  case  of  collective  hallucina* 
tion:  the  inference  being  that  if  two  persons  see  the 
same  appearance,  it  is  not  mere  imagination;  there  is 
some  objective  foundation  for  it. 

It  is  true,  and  should  be  taken  into  account,  that  Miss 

S had  described  the  apparition  to  her  friend,  and 

that  for  a  time  the  latter  had  some  expectation  of  wit- 
nessing it.      And   this  will  suggest  to  the  skeptic,  a8 

♦  "Eanay  totoarda   a    Theory   of  Apparitiont,"  by  John  Ferrfar,  M.D., 
London,  1813,  p.  75. 
t  See  Book  IV.  chap.  L 


rOREGOING   NARBATIVB.  425 

explanation,  the  theory  of  expectant  attention.  But,  in 
the  first  place,  it  has  never  been  proved*  that  mere  ex- 
pectant attention  could  produce  the  appearance  of  a 
figure  with  every  detail  of  costume,  to  say  nothing  of 
the   phosphorescent   letters  appearing  above  it,  which 

Mrs.  R certainly  did  not  expect;  and,  secondly,  Mrs. 

R expressly  stated  to  me  that,  as  four  weeks  had 

elapsed  and  she  had  seen  nothing,  she  had  ceased  to 
expect  it  at  all.  Still  less  can  we  imagine  that  her 
thoughts  would  be  occupied  with  the  matter  at  the  mo- 
ment when,  hurried  by  a  hungry  and  impatient  brother, 
she  was  hastily  completing,  in  a  cheerfull3'-lighted  room, 
her  dinner-toilet.  It  would  be  difficult  to  select  a  moment 
out  of  the  twenty-four  hours  when  the  imagination  was 
less  likely  to  be  busy  with  spiritual  fancies,  or  could  be 
supposed  excited  to  the  point  necessary  to  reproduce  (if 
it  can  ever  reproduce)  the  image  of  a  described  appa- 
rition. 

But  conceding  these  extreme  improbabilities,  what 
are  we  to  make  of  the  name  Children,  communicated 
to  the  one  lady  through  the  sense  of  hearing  and  to  tho 
other  through  that  of  sight? 

The  name  is  a  very  uncommon  one;  and  both  the  ladies 
assured  me  that  they  had  never  even  heard  it  before,  to 
say  nothing  of  their  being  wholly  ignorant  whether  any 
family  bearing  that  name  had  formerly  occupied  the  old 
house.  This  latter  point  they  seek  to  clear  up;  but 
neither  servants  nor  neighbors  can  tell  them  any  thing 
about  it.  They  remain  for  four  months  without  any 
explanation.  At  the  end  of  that  time,  one  of  the  ser- 
vants, going  home,  accidentally  ascertains  that  about 
a  hundred  3'oars  ago,  or  more,  a  family  named  Children 
did  occupy  that  veiy  house. 

What  could  imagination   or   expectation  have  to  do 


♦  The  contrary  appears.     See  page  354» 
36* 


426  REMARKS    ON   THE 

with  this  *  The  images  of  the  figures  may  be  set  down, 
in  the  ca«e  of  both  the  ladies,  as  hallucination;  but  the 
name  remains,  a  stubborn  link,  connecting  these  with 
the  actual  world. 

If  even  we  were  to  argue — what  no  one  will  believe — 
that  this  agreement  of  family  name  was  but  a  chance 
coincidence,  there  remain  yet  other  coincidences  to  ac- 
count for  before  the  whole  difficulty  is  settled.  There  is 
the  alleged  Christian  as  well  as  familj'^  name, — Eichard 
Children ;  there  is  the  date  indicated  by  the  costume, 
"the  reign  of  Queen  Anne  or  one  of  the  early  Georges;" 
and,  finally,  there  is  the  year  of  Eichard  Children's  death. 

These  the  ladies  stated  to  me,  not  knowing,  when 
they  did  so,  what  the  actual  facts  were.  These  facts 
I  myself  subsequently  disinterred;  obtaining  the  evi- 
dence of  a  document  preserved  in  the  British  Museum 
in  proof  that  Eichard  Children  did  inherit  the  Eamhurst 
property  in  the  fourth  year  of  the  reign  of  George  I., 
and  did  make  the  Eamhurst  mansion-house  his  family 
residence.  And  he  is  the  only  representative  of  the 
family  who  lived  and  died  there.  His  son  John  may 
have  resided  there  for  a  time;  but  previous  to  his  de- 
cease he  had  left  the  place  for  another  seat,  near  Tun- 
bridge. 

Then  there  is  the  circumstance  that  misfortunes  com- 
pelled the  descendants  of  Eichard  Children  to  sell  the 
Eamhurst  property,  and  that  their  ancestor's  family  man- 
sion, passing  into  the  hands  of  strangers,  was  degraded 
(as  that  ancestor  would  doubtless  have  considered  it)  to 
an  ordinary  farm-house;  all  this  still  tallying  with  the 
communications  made. 

It  is  perfectly  idle,  under  the  circumstances,  to  talk 
of  fancy  or  fortuitous  coincidence.  '  Something  other 
than  imagination  or  accident,  be  it  what  it  may,  deter- 
mined the  minute  specifications  obtained  from  ihe 
apparitions  in  the  Old  Kent  Manor-House. 


FOREGOING  NARRATIVE.  427 

The  lesson  taught  by  this  story — if  we  admit  the 
figures  which  presented  themselves  to  the  two  ladies 
to  have  been,  in  verity,  the  apparitions  of  the  Children 
family — is,  that  crime  is  not  necessary  to  attract  the 
spirits  of  the  departed  back  to  earth;  that  a  frame 
of  mind  of  an  exclusively  worldly  cast — a  character 
that  never  bestowed  a  thought  upon  any  thing  beyond 
this  earth,  and  was  troubled  only  by  the  cares  of  pos- 
session and  the  thoughts  of  gain — may  equally  draw 
down  the  spirit,  though  freed  from  the  body,  to  gather 
cumber  and  sorrow  amid  the  scenes  of  its  former  care. 
If  this  be  so,  how  strong  the  motive  not  to  suffer  the 
present  and  the  temporal,  necessary  and  proper  in  their 
places  as  they  are,  so  completely  to  engross  us  as  to 
usurp  the  place,  and  wholly  to  exclude  the  thoughts, 
of  the  future  and  the  spiritual ! 

I  presume  not  to  anticipate  the  judgment  which  the 
reader  may  pass  on  the  evidence  here  submitted  to  him. 
If  his  decision  be,  that  there  is  not,  in  any  of  the  pre- 
ceding examples,  proof  that  an  objective  reality,  be  its 
nature  what  it  may,  was  presented  to  the  senses  of  the 
observers,  then  he  would  do  well  to  consider  whether 
the  rule  of  evidence  according  to  which  he  may  have 
reached  that  decision,  if  applied  to  history,  sacred 
nnd  profane,  would  not  sweep  off  nine-tenths,  and  more, 
of  all  we  have  been  accustomed  to  trust  to  as  foundation 
for  historical  deduction  and  religious  belief. 

If,  on  the  other  hand,  adopting  in  this  investigation 
the  same  rules  in  scanning  testimony  by  which  wo  are 
governed,  day  by  day,  in  ordinary  life,  the  reader 
should  decide  that  something  other  than  hallucination 
must  be  conceded,  and  that  the  senses  of  some  of  these 
observers  did  receive  actual  impressions  produced  by 
an  external  reality,  the  question  remains,  of  what  pre- 
cise character  that  reality  is. 


128  THE   AUTHOR  OP   ROBINSON    CRUSOE 

Daniel  De  Foe  has  an  elaborate  work  on  this  snbjent, 
illustrated  by  many  examples;  of  which  some,  it  must 
be  confessed,  exhibit  more  of  that  inimitable  talent 
which  makes  Robinson  Crusoe  one  of  the  most  vivid 
realities  of  childhood,  than  of  that  more  prosaic  pre- 
cision which  scorns  not  names  and  dates  and  authen- 
ticating vouchers. 

De  Foe's  opinion  is,  "  The  inquiry  is  not,  as  I  take 
it,  whether  the  inhabitants  of  the  invisible  spaces  do 
really  come  hither  or  no,  but  who  they  are  who  do 
come  ?"* 

From  the  "  meanness  of  some  of  the  occasions  on 
which  some  of  these  things  happen,'^  he  argues  that  it 
cannot  be  angels,  properly  so  called,  such  as  appeared 
to  Gideon  or  to  David.  "  Here,"  sa^'s  he,  *'  you  have 
an  old  v.'Oman  dead,  that  has  hid  a  little  money  in  the 
orchard  or  garden  ;  and  an  apparition,  it  is  supposed, 
comes  and  discovers  it,  by  leading  the  person  it  appears 
to,  to  the  place,  and  making  some  signal  that  he  should 
dig  there  for  somewhat.  Or,  a  man  is  dead,  and,  having 
left  a  legacy  to  such  or  such,  the  executor  does  not  pay 
it,  and  an  apparition  comes  and  haunts  this  executor 
till  he  does  justice.  Is  it  likely  an  angel  should  be 
sent  from  heaven  to  find  out  the  old  woman's  earthen 
dish  with  thirty  or  forty  shillings  in  it,  or  that  an 
angel  should  be  sent  to  harass  this  man  for  a  legacy 
of  five  or  ten  pounds?  And  as  to  the  devil,  will  any 
one  charge  Satan  with  being  solicitous  to  see  justice 
done?  They  that  know  him  at  all  must  know  him 
better  than  to  think  so  hardly  of  him."  (p.  34.) 

Nor  can  it,  he  argues,  be  the  soul  or  ghost  of  the 
departed  person;  "for  if  the  soul  is  happy,  is  it  reason- 


»  "  Universal  History  of  Apparitions,"  by  Andrew  Moreton,  Esq.,  3<1  ed^ 
London,  1738,  p.  2.  De  Foe's  biographers  acknowledge  for  him  the  author* 
•hip  of  this  work.     The  first  edition  appeared  in  1727. 


IN    A    DILEMiMA.  429 

able  to  boliovo  that  the  felicity  of  heaven  can  be  inter- 
rupted by  80  trivial  a  matter  and  on  so  sligiit  an  occa- 
eion?  if  the  soul  be  unhappy,  remember  the  great  gulf 
fixed  :  there  is  no  reason  to  believe  those  unhappy  souls 
have  leisure  or  liberty  to  come  back  upon  earth  on 
errands  of  such  a  nature.'* 

The  idea  of  Hades,  or  a  mediate  state,  evidently  did 
not  enter  into  De  Foe's  mind ;  and  thus  he  found  him- 
self in  a  dilemma.  "  There  is  nothing,"  says  he,  **  but 
difficulty  in  it  on  every  side.  Apparitions  there  are : 
we  see  no  room  to  doubt  the  reality  of  that  part;  but 
what,  who,  or  from  whence,  is  a  difficulty  which  I  see 
no  way  to  extricate  ourselves  from  but  by  granting 
that  there  may  be  an  appointed,  deputed  sort  of  sta- 
tionary Spirits  in  the  invisible  world,  who  come  upon 
these  occasions  and  appear  among  us;  which  inhabit- 
ants or  spirits,  (you  may  call  them  angels,  if  you 
please, — bodies  they  are  not  and  cannot  be,  neither 
had  they  been  ever  embodied,)  but  such  as  they  are, 
they  have  a  power  of  conversing  among  us,  and  can, 
bj'  dreams,  impulses,  and  strong  aversions,  move  our 
thoughts,  and  give  hope,  raise  doubts,  sink  our  souls 
to-day,  elevate  them  to-morrow,  and  in  many  ways 
operate  on  our  passions  and  affections."* 

Again  he  saj's,  "The  spirits  I  speak  of  must  be 
heaven-born  :  they  do  Heaven's  work,  and  are  honored 
by  his  special  commission;  they  are  employed  in  his 
immediate  business :  namely,  the  common  good  of  his 
creature,  man."f 

If  there  be  no  mediate  state  which  the  spirit  enters 
at  death,  and  whence  it  may  occasionally  return,  then 
De  Foe's  hypothesis  may  be  as  good  as  any  other.  But 
if  we  admit  a  Sheol  or  Hades,  and  thus  do  away  with 
all  difficulty  about  disturbing  the   ecstatic  felicity  of 

•  "  Uuivertal  Hiatory  of  Apparitioru"  p.  Zb.  f  Work  cited,  p.  52. 


430  EADES. 

hcaveu  or  escaping  across  the  gulf  from  the  fast- 
binding  chains  of  hell,  why  should  we  turn  aside 
from  a  plain  path,  and  seek  to  evade  a  straightforward 
inference,  that,  if  God  really  does  permit  apparitions, 
these  may  be  what  they  allege  they  are?  "Why  should 
we  gratuitously  create,  for  the  nonce,  a  nondescript 
species  of  spirits,  not  men,  though  a  little  lower  than 
the  angels;  protectors,  who  simulate;  guardians  who 
lie;  ministering  spirits  commissioned  by  God,  who 
cheat  men  by  assuming  false  forms, — to  one  appearing 
as  an  aunt,  to  another  as  a  grandmother,  now  per- 
sonating a  murderer  and  imploring  prayer,  now  play- 
ing the  part  of  the  murdered  and  soliciting  pity?  Is 
this  God's  work?  Are  these  fitting  credentials  of  hea- 
venly birth,  plausible  evidences  of  Divine  commis- 
sion ? 

The  question  remains  as  to  the  existence  of  a  medi- 
ate state,  whence  human  spirits  that  have  suffered  the 
Great  Change  may  be  supposed  to  have  the  occasional 
power  of  returning.  Before  touching  upon  it,  I  pause, 
to  add  a  few  examples  of  what  seem  visitings  from 
that  unknown  sphere;  interferences,  of  which  some 
assume  the  aspect  of  retribution,  some  of  guardianship, 
all  being  of  a  peculiarly  personal  character. 


BOOK  V. 

INDICATIONS  OF  PERSONAL  INTERFERENCEa 
CHAPTEE  I. 

RETRIBUTION. 

Ever  Rince  the  days  of  Orestes,  the  idea  of  a  spiritual 
agency,  retributive  and  inevitable,  has  prevailed,  in 
some  shape,  throughout  the  world.  If  we  do  not  now 
believe  in  serpent-haired  furies,  the  ministers  of  Divine 
vengeance,  pursuing,  with  their  whips  of  scorpions,  the 
doomed  criminal,  we  speak  currentl}^  of  the  judgment? 
of  God,  as  evinced  in  some  swift  and  sudden  punish 
ment  overtaking,  as  if  by  the  direct  mandate  of  Heaven 
the  impenitent  guilty. 

On  the  other  hand,  Christianity  sanctions,  in  a  gene- 
ral way,  the  idea  of  spiritual  care  exerted  to  guida 
human  steps  and  preserve  from  unforeseen  danger. 
Protestantism  does  not,  indeed,  admit  as  sound  the 
doctrine  of  patron  saints,  to  whom  prayers  may  pro- 
perly, be  addressed  and  from  whom  aid  may  reasonably 
be  expected.  Yet  we  must  deny  not  only  the  authority 
of  St.  Paul,  but,  it  would  seem,  that  of  his  Master  also, 
if  we  reject  the  theory  of  spirits,  protective  and  guardian, 
guiding  the  inexperience  of  infancy  and  ministering  at 
least  to  a  favored  portion  of  mankind.* 

Among  modern  records  of  alleged  ultramundane  influ- 
ences we  come  upon  indications  which  favor,  to  a  certain 

*  MaUhew  xviii.  10  ;  Hebrews  i.  U. 


432  THE    BEAUTIFUL    QUADROON    GIRL. 

extent,  both  ideas;  that  of  requital  for  evil  done,  and 
that  of  guardian  care  exerted  for  the  good  of  man.  The 
latter  is  more  frequent  and  more  distinctly  marked  than 
the  former.  There  is  nothing  giving  color  to  the  idea 
of  permission  to  inflict  serious  injury,  still  less  to  the 
notion  of  implacable  vengeance.*  The  power  against 
the  evil  doer  seems  to  be  of  a  very  limited  nature,  reaching 
no  further  than  annoyance,  of  petty  effect  unless  con- 
science give  sting  to  the  infliction.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  power  to  guide  and  protect  appears  to  be  not  only 
more  common,  but  more  influential;  with  its  limits, 
however,  such  as  a  wise  parent  might  set  to  the  free 
agency  of  a  child.  If  warnings  are  given,  it  is  rather 
in  the  form  of  dim  hints  or  vague  reminders  than  of 
distinct  prophecy.  If  rules  of  action  are  suggested, 
they  are  of  a  general  character,  not  relieving  the  spi- 
ritual ward  from  the  duty  of  forethought  and  the  task 
of  self-decision,  nor  yet  releasing  him  from  the  employ- 
ment of  that  reason  without  the  constant  exercise  of 
which  he  would  speedily  be  degraded  from  his  present 
position  at  the  head  of  animal  nature.   . 

The  modern  examples  to  which  I  have  referred  are 
more  or  less  definite  in  their  character. 

Among  the  narratives,  for  instance,  appearing  to  in- 
volve retributive  agency,  Dr.  Binns  vouches  for  one 
admitting  of  various  interpretation.  He  records  it  as 
"a  remarkable  instance  of  retributive  justice  which  oc- 
curred very  recently  in  Jamaica."  The  story  is  as 
follows:— 

"A  young,  and  beautiful  quadroon  girl,  named  Duncan, 
was  found  murdered  in  a  retired  spot,  a  few  paces  from 
the  main  road.     From  the  evidence  given  on  the  coro- 

*  The  Grecians  themselves  do  not  represent  the  Furies  as  implacable 
These  were  held  to  be  open — as  their  name  of  Eumenides  implies — to 
benevolent  and  merciful  impulses,  aud  might,  by  proper  means,  b«  pro- 
pitiated. 


CAN    DREAMS    EMBODY   REQUITALS?  433 

iier's  inquest,  it  was  satisfactorily  established  that  she 
had  been  violated  previous  to  the  murder.  A  large 
reward  was  offered  for  any  information  that  might  lead 
to  the  apprehension  of  the  murderer;  but  nearly  a  year 
elapsed  without  any  clew  whatever  being  obtained.  It 
happened  that,  about  this  period  from  the  discovery  of 
the  murder,  two  black  men,  named  Pendril  and  Chitty, 
were  confined  for  separate  petty  offenses;  one  in  the 
Kingston  penitentiary,  on  the  south,  the  other  in  Fal- 
mouth gaol,  on  the  north,  side  of  the  island.  Their  im- 
prisonment was  unknown  to  each  other,  and  the  distance 
between  their  places  of  incarceration  was  eighty  miles. 
Each  of  these  men  became  restless  and  talkative  in  his 
sleep,  repeatedly  expostulating  as  if  in  the  presence  of 
the  murdered  girl,  and  entreating  her  to  leave  him. 
This  happened  so  frequently  that  it  led  to  inquiries, 
which  terminated  in  the  conviction  of  the  two  men."* 

This  case  may  be  regarded  either  as  an  example  of 
accidentally  synchronous  dreams,  or  else  of  an  apparition 
presenting  itself  simultaneously,  or  nearly  so,  to  the 
sleeping  senses  of  two  men  at  a  distance  from  each 
other. 

The  former  is  a  supposable  explanation.  Conscience 
may  be  conceived  likely  to  dog  the  thoughts  of  men 
guilty  of  such  an  infamy.  But  that  to  both,  distant  and 
disconnected  from  each  other,  and  after  a  year  had 
passed,  its  retributive  reminders  should  assume  the 
selfsame  shape  at  the  very  same  time,  by  mere  chance, 
is  a  contingency  possible,  indeed,  but  of  very  improbable 
occurrence. 

And  whj^  should  it  be  considered  unlikely  that  some 
agency  other  than  chance  was  here  at  work?  Wo 
know  that  warnings  have  been  given  in  dreams:  why 
should  dreams  not  embody  requitals  also? 

«  '•  Anatomy  of  Sleep,"  by  Edward  Binna,  M.D.,  2d  ed.,  London,  1845, 
p.  152. 

2C  .37 


434  A   FEMALE   TRAGEDIAN 

But,  since  the  above  case  presents  two  possible  phasea. 
let  us  pass  to  another,  of  less  equivocal  character. 

WHAT  A  FRENCH  ACTRESS  SUFFERED. 

Mademoiselle  Claire- Josephe  Clairon  was  the  great 
French  tragedian  of  the  last  century.  She  occupied, 
in  her  day,  a  position  similar  to  that  which  Eachel  has 
recently  filled.  Marmontel  was  one  of  her  warmest 
eulogists;  and  her  talents  were  celebrated  in  the  verses 
of  Voltaire. 

Her  beauty,  her  grace,  and  her  genius  won  for  her 
many  enthusiastic  admirers;  some  professing  friendship, 
others  offering  love.     Among  the   latter,  in  the  year 

1743,  was  a  young  man.  Monsieur  de  S ,  son  of  a 

merchant  of  Brittany,  whose  attachment  appears  to 
have  been  of  the  most  devoted  kind. 

The  circumstances  connected  with  this  young  man's 
death,  and  the  events  which  succeeded  it,  are  of  an 
extraordinary  character;  but  they  come  to  us  from  first 
hand,  and  remarkably  well  authenticated,  being  detailed 
by  Mademoiselle  Clairon  herself,  in  her  autobiography, 
from  which  I  translate  the  essential  part  of  the  narra- 
tive, as  follows : — 

*'The  language  and  manners  of  Monsieur  de  S 

gave  evidence  of  an  excellent  education  and  of  the 
habit  of  good  society.  His  reserve,  his  timidity,  which 
deterred  all  advances  except  by  little  attentions  and  by 
the  language  of  the  eyes,  caused  me  to  distinguish  him 
from  others.  After  having  met  him  frequently  in  society, 
I  at  last  permitted  him  to  visit  me  at  my  own  house, 
and  did  not  conceal  from  him  the  friendship  with  which 
he  inspired  me.  Seeing  me  at  liberty,  and  well  inclined 
toward  him,  he  was  content  to  ber  patient;  hoping  that 
time  might  create  in  me  a  warmer  sentiment.  I  could 
not  tell — who  can  ? — how  it  would  result.  But,  when 
he  came  to  reply  candidly  to  the  questions  which  my 


REFUSES    A    MISANTHROPE.  435 

reason  and  curiosity  prompted,  he  himself  destroyed  the 
chance  he  might  have  had.  Ashamed  of  being  a  com- 
moner only,  he  had  converted  his  property  into  ready 
funds,  and  had  come  to  Paris  to  spend  his  money,  aping 
a  rank  above  his  own.  This  displeased  me.  He  who 
blushes  for  himself  causes  others  to  despise  him.  Be- 
sides this,  his  temperament  was  melancholy  and  misan- 
thropic: he  knew  mankind  too  well,  he  said,  not  to 
contemn  and  to  avoid  them.  His  project  was  to  see  no 
one  but  mj^self,  and  to  carry  me  off  where  I  should  see 
only  him.  That,  as  may  be  supposed,  did  not  suit  me 
at  all.  I  was  willing  to  be  guided  by  a  flowery  band, 
but  not  to  be  fettered  with  chains.  From  that  moment, 
I  saw  the  necessity  of  destroying  entirely  the  hopes  he 
nourished,  and  of  changing  his  assiduities  of  every  day 
to  occasional  visits,  few  and  far  between.  This  caused 
him  a  severe  illness,  during  which  I  nursed  him  with 
every,  possible  care.  But  my  constant  refusals  aggra- 
vated the  case ;  and,  unfortunately  for  the  poor  fellow, 
his  brother-in-law,  to  whom  he  had  intrusted  the  care 
of  his  funds,  failed  to  make  remittances,  so  that  he  was 
fain  to  accept  the  scanty  supply  of  spare  cash  I  had,  to 
furnish  him  with  food  and  medical  assistance."  .  .  . 
"Finally  he  recovered  his  property,  but  not  his  health; 
and,  desiring  for  his  own  sake  to  keep  him  at  a  distance 
from  me,  I  steadily  refused  both  his  letters  and  his  visits. 

*'Two  years  and  a  half  elapsed  between  the  time  of 
our  first  acquaintance  and  his  death.  He  sent,  in  his 
last  moments,  to  beg  that  I  would  grant  him  the  happi- 
ness of  seeing  me  once  more;  but  my  friends  hindered 
me  from  doing  so.  He  died,  having  no  one  near  him 
but  his  servants  and  an  old  lady,  who  for  some  time 
had  been  his  only  society.  His  apartments  were  then 
on  the  Rempart,  near  the  Chaussee  d'Antin;  mine,  in 
the  Rue  de  Bassy,  near  the  monastery  of  Saint-Germain. 

"That  evening  my  mother  and  several  other  friends 


436  THE    MYSTERIOUS   CRY. 

were  supping  with  me, — among  them,  the  Intendant  of 
the  Menus-Plaisirs,  whose  professional  aid  I  constantly 
required,  that  excellent  fellow  Pipelet,  and  Eosely,  a 
comrade  of  mine  and  a  young  man  of  good  family,  witty 
and  talented.  The  supper  was  gay.  I  had  just  been 
singing  to  them,  and  they  applauding  me,  when,  as 
eleven  o'clock  struck,  a  piercing  cry  was  heard.  Its 
heart-rending  tone  and  the  length  of  time  it  continued 
struck  every  one  with  astonishment.  I  fainted,  and 
remained  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour  totally  unconscious." 
.  .  .  "When  I  recovered,  I  begged  them  to  remain 
with  me  part  of  the  night.  We  reasoned  much  in  regard 
to  this  strange  cry;  and  it  was  agreed  to  have  spies  set 
in  the  street,  so  that,  in  case  of  its  repetition,  we  might 
detect  its  cause  and  its  author. 

"Every  succeeding  night,  always  at  the  same  hour, 
the  same  cry  was  repeated,  sounding  immediately  be- 
neath my  windows,  and  appearing  to  issue  from  the 
vacant  air.  My  people,  my  guests,  my  neighbors,  the 
police,  all  heard  it  alike.  I  could  not  doubt  that  it 
was  intended  for  me.  I  seldom  supped  from  home,  but 
when  I  did,  nothing  was  heard  there;  and  several  times, 
when  I  returned  later  than  eleven,  and  inquired  of  my 
mother,  or  the  servants,  if  any  thing  had  been  heard  of 
it,  suddenly  it  burst  forth  in  the  midst  of  us. 

"One  evening  the  President  de  B ,  with  whom  I 

had  been  supping,  escorted  me  home,  and,  at  the  moment 
he  bade  me  good-night  at  the  door  of  my  apartment,  the 
cry  exploded  between  him  and  myself.  He  was  quite 
familiar  with  the  story,  for  all  Paris  knew  it;  yet  he 
was  carried  to  his  carriage  more  dead  than  alive. 

"Another  day,  I  begged  my  comrade,  Eosely,  to 
accompany  me,  first  to  the  Eue  Saint-Honore,  to  make 
some  purchases,  afterward  to  visit  my  friend  Made- 
moiselle de   Saint-P ,  who  resided  near  the  Porto 

Saint-Denis.     Our  sole  topic  of  conversation  all  the  way 


THE   TERROR   OP    MADAME   GRANDVAL.  437 

wae  my  ghost,  as  I  used  to  call  it.  The  young  mati, 
witty  and  unbelieving,  begged  me  to  evoke  the  phantom, 
promising  to  believe  in  it  if  it  replied.  Whether  from 
weakness  or  audacity,  I  acceded  to  his  request.  Thrii  e, 
on  the  instant,  the  cry  sounded,  rapid  and  terrible  in  ts 
repetition.  When  we  arrived  at  my  friend's  houae, 
Rosely  and  I  had  to  be  carried  in.  We  were  both  found 
lying  senseless  in  the  carriage. 

"  After  this  scene,  I  remained  several  months  without 
hearing  any  thing  more;  and  I  began  to  hope  that  the 
disturbance  had  ceased.     I  was  mistaken. 

"  The  theater  had  been  ordered  to  Yersailles,  on  occa- 
sion of  the  marriage  of  the  Dauphin.  We  were  to  re- 
main there  three  days.  We  were  insufficiently  provided 
with  apartments.  Madame  Grandval  had  none.  We 
waited  half  the  night  in  hopes  that  one  would  be  as- 
signed to  her.  At  three  o'clock  in  the  morning  I  offered 
her  one  of  the  two  beds  in  my  room,  which  was  in  the 
Avenue  de  Saint-Cloud.  She  accepted  it.  I  occupied 
the  other  bed;  and  as  my  maid  was  undressing,  to  sleep 
beside  me,  I  said  to  her,  'Here  we  are  at  the  end  of  the 
world,  and  with  such  frightful  weather!  I  think  it  would 
puzzle  the  ghost  to  find  us  out  here.'  The  same  cry,  on 
the  instant!  Madame  Grandval  thought  that  hell  itself 
was  let  loose  in  the  room.  In  her  night-dress  she  rushed 
down-stairs,  from  the  top  to  the  bottom.  Not  a  soul  in 
the  house  slept  another  wink  that  night.  This  was, 
however,  the  last  time  I  ever  heard  it. 

"  Seven  or  eight  days  afterward,  while  chatting  with 
my  ordinary  circle  of  friends,  the  stroke  of  eleven  o'clock 
was  followed  by  a  musket-shot,  as  if  fired  at  one  of  my 
windows.  Every  one  of  us  heard  the  report;  everyone 
of  us  saw  the  flash ;  but  the  window  had  received  no 
injury.  We  concluded  that  it  was  an  attempt  on  my 
Ufe,  that  for  this  time  it  had  failed,  but  that  precautions 
must  be  taken  for  the  future.     The  Intendant  hastened 

37* 


43b  A   GRADUAL   CHANGE    OF   PHASE   - 

to  M.  de  Marville,  then  Lieutenant  of  Police,  and  a  per- 
bonal  friend  of  his.  Officers  were  instantly  sent  to  ex- 
amine the  houses  opposite  mine.  Throughout  the  fol- 
lowing days  they  were  guarded  from  top  to  bottom.  My 
own  house,  also,  was  thoroughly  examined.  The  street 
was  filled  with  spies.  But,  in  spite  of  all  these  precau- 
tions, for  three  entire  months,  every  evening,  at  the 
same  hour,  the  same  musket-shot,  directed  against  the 
same  pane  of  glass,  was  heard  to  explode,  was  seen;  and 
yet  no  one  was  ever  able  to  discover  whence  it  pro- 
ceeded. This  fact  is  attested  by  its  official  record  on 
the  registers  of  the  police. 

"  I  gradually  became  in  a  measure  accustomed  to  my 
ghost,  whom  I  began  to  consider  a  good  sort  of  fellow, 
since  he  was  content  with  tricks  that  produced  no 
serious  injury;  and,  one  warm  evening,  not  noticing  the 
hour,  the  Intendant  and  myself,  having  opened  the 
haunted  window,  were  leaning  over  the  balcony.  Eleven 
o'clock  struck;  the  detonation  instantly  succeeded;  and 
it  threw  both  of  us,  half-dead,  into  the  middle  of  the 
room.  When  we  recovered,  and  found  that  neither  of 
us  was  hurt,  we  began  to  compare  notes ;  and  each  ad- 
mitted to  the  other  the  having  received,  he  on  the  left 
cheek  and  I  on  the  right,  a  box  on  the  ear,  right  sharply 
laid  on.     We  both  burst  out  laughing. 

"  Next  day  nothing  happened.  The  day  after,  having 
received  an  invitation  from  Mademoiselle  Dumesnil  to 
attend  a  nocturnal  fete  at  her  house,  near  the  Barriere 
Blanche,  I  got  into  a  hackney-coach,  with  my  maid,  at 
eleven  o'clock.  It  was  bright  moonlight;  and  our  road 
was  along  the  Boulevards,  which  were  then  beginning  to 
be  built  up.  We  were  looking  out  at  the  houses  they  were 
building,  when  my  maid  said  to  me,  '  Was  it  not  some- 
where near  here  that  Monsieur  de  S died  T     '  From 

what  they  told  me,'  I  replied,  '  it  must  have  boen  in  one 
of  these  two  houses  in  front  of  us,' — pointing  to  them 


IN    THE   PHENOMENA.  489 

at  the  same  time.  At  that  moment  the  same  musket- 
shot  that  had  been  pursuing  me  was  fired  from  one  of 
the  houses,  and  passed  through  our  carriage.*  The 
coachman  set  off  at  full  gallop,  thinking  he  was  attacked 
by  robbers;  and  we,  when  we  arrived  at  our  destina- 
tion, had  scarcely  recovered  our  senses.  For  my  own 
part,  I  confess  to  a  degree  of  terror  which  it  was  long 
before  I  could  shake  off.  But  this  exploit  was  the  last 
of  its  kind.  I  never  again  heard  any  discharge  of  fire- 
arms. 

"  To  these  shots  succeeded  a  clapping  of  hands,  given 
in  measured  time  and  repeated  at  intervals.  These 
sounds,  to  which  the  favor  of  the  public  had  accustomed 
me,  gave  me  but  trifling  annoyance,  and  I  took  little 
trouble  to  trace  their  origin.  My  friends  did,  however. 
*  We  have  watched  in  the  most  careful  manner,'  they 
would  say  to  me  :  *  it  is  under  your  very  door  that  the 
sounds  occur.  We  hear  them ;  but  we  see  nobody.  It 
is  another  phase  of  the  same  annoyances  that  have  fol- 
lowed you  so  long.*  As  these  noises  had  nothing  alarm- 
ing in  them,  I  did  not  preserve  a  record  of  the  period  of 
their  continuance. 

"  Nor  did  I  take  special  note  of  the  melodious  sounds 
by  which,  after  a  time,  they  were  succeeded.  It  seemed 
as  if  a  celestial  voice  warbled  the  prelude  to  some  noble 
air  which  it  was  about  to  execute.  Once  the  voice  com- 
menced at  the  Carrefour  de  Bussy,  and  continued  all  the 
wa}'  until  I  reached  my  own  door.  In  this  case,  as  in 
all  the  preceding,  my  friends  watched,  followed  the 
sounds,  heard  them  as  I  did,  but  could  never  see  any 
thing. 

"  Finally  all  the  sounds  ceased,  after  having  continued. 


*  Whether  a  ball  passed  through  the  carriage  does  not  clearly  appear. 
The  expression  is,  "  D'une  des  maisons  partit  ce  m£me  coup  de  fusil  qui 
jne  poursuivait ;  il  traversa  notre  voiture." 


440  SEQUEL   TO    THE   ANNOYANCES 

with  intermissions,  a  little  more  than  two  years  and  a 
half." 

Whether  the  sequel  may  be  regarded  as  supplying  a 
sufficient  explanation  or  not,  it  is  proper  to  give  it,  as 
furnished  by  Mademoiselle  Clairon. 

That  lady  desiring  to  change  her  residence,  and  the 
apartments  she  occupied  being  advertised  to  rent,  several 
persons  called  to  see  them.  Among  the  rest  there  was 
announced  a  lady  advanced  in  years.  She  exhibited 
much  emotion,  which  communicated  itself  to  Made- 
moiselle Clairon.  At  last  she  confessed  that  it  was  not 
to  look  at  the  apartments  she  came,  but  to  converse 
with  their  occupant.  She  had  thought  of  writing,  she 
said,  but  had  feared  that  her  motives  might  be  misin- 
terpreted. Mademoiselle  Clairon  begged  for  an  expla- 
nation ;  and  the  conversation  which  ensued  is  thus  re- 
ported by  herself 

"*I   was,   mademoiselle,'   said   the    lady,    'the    best 

friend  of  Monsieur  de  S ;  indeed,  the  only  one  he  was 

willing  to  see  during  the  last  year  of  his  life.  The  hours, 
the  days,  of  that  year  were  spent  by  us  in  talking  of 
you,  sometimes  setting  you  down  as  an  angel,  some- 
times as  a  devil.  As  for  me,  I  urged  him  constantly  to 
endeavor  to  forget  you,  while  he  protested  that  he 
would  continue  to  love  you  even  beyond  the  tomb.  You 
weep,'  she  continued,  after  a  pause ;  '  and  perhaps  you 
will  allow  me  to  ask  you  why  you  made  him  so  un- 
happy, and  why,  with  your  upright  and  aifectionate 
character,  you  refused  him,  in  his  last  moments,  the  con- 
solation of  seeing  you  once  more.' 

"  *  Our  affections,'  I  replied,  '  are  not  within  our  own 

control.     Monsieur  de  S had  many  meritorious  and 

estimable  qualities;  but  his  character  was  somber,  mis- 
anthropic, despotic,  so  that  he  caused  me  to  fear  alike 
his  society,  his  friendship,  and  his  love.  To  make  him 
happy,  I  should  have  had  to  renounce  all  human  inter- 


OP   MADEMOISELLE   CLAIRON.  441 

course,  even  the  talent  I  exercise.  I  was  poor  and 
proud.  It  has  been  my  wish  and  my  hope  to  accept  no 
favor, — to  owe  every  thing  to  my  own  exertions.  The 
friendship  I  entertained  for  him  caused  me  to  try  every 
means  to  bring  him  back  to  sentiments  more  calm  and 
reasonable.  Failing  in  this,  and  convinced  that  his  ob- 
stinate resolve  was  due  less  to  the  extremity  of  his  pas- 
sion than  to  the  violence  of  his  character,  I  adopted,  and 
adhered  to,  the  resolution  to  separate  from  him  forever. 
I  refused  to  see  him  on  his  death-bed,  because  the  sight 
of  his  distress  would  have  made  me  miserable,  to  no 
good  end.  Besides,  I  might  have  been  placed  in  the 
dilemma  of  refusing  what  he  might  ask  me,  with  seem- 
ing barbarity,  or  acceding  to  it  with  certain  prospect  of 
future  unhappiness.  These,  madame,  were  the  motives 
which  actuated  me.  I  trust  you  will  not  consider  them 
deserving  of  censure.* 

"  *It  would  be  unjust/  she  replied,  *to  condemn  you. 
We  can  be  reasonably  called  upon  to  make  sacrifices 
only  to  fulfill  our  promises  or  in  discharge  of  our  duty 
to  relatives  or  to  benefactors.  I  know  that  you  owed 
him  no  gratitude;  he  himself  felt  that  all  obligation  was 
on  his  part ;  but  the  state  of  his  mind  and  the  passion 
which  ruled  him  were  beyond  his  control ;  and  your  re- 
fusal to  see  him  hastened  his  last  moments.  He  counted 
the  minutes  until  half-past  ten,  when  his  servant  re- 
turned with  the  message  that  most  certainly  you  would 
not  come.  After  a  moment  of  silence,  he  took  my  hand, 
and,  in  a  state  of  despair  which  terrified  me,  he  ex- 
claimed, "  Barbarous  creature  !  But  she  shall  gain  nothing 
by  it.  I  will  pursue  her  as  long  after  my  death  as  she  has 
pursued  me  during  my  life."  ...  I  tried  to  calm  him.  He 
was  already  a  corpse.'  "* 


•  "  Mintotrea  de  Mademoiselle  Clairon,  Actrice  du  Thiatre  Franqaia,  ieriU 
far  tile-mime,"  2d  ed.,  Paris,  1822,  pp.  78  to  96.      The  editors  state  that 


442  CORROBORATIVE  TESTIMONY. 

This  is  the  story  as  Mademoiselle  Clairon  herself  re- 
lates it.  She  adds,  "  I  need  not  say  what  effect  these 
last  words  produced  on  me.  The  coincidence  between 
them  and  the  disturbances  that  had  haunted  me  filled 
me  with  terror.  ...  I  do  not  know  what  chance  really 
is;  but  I  am  very  sure. that  what  we  are  in  the  habit  of 
calling  so  has  a  vast  influence  upon  human  affairs." 

In  the  Memoirs  of  the  Duchesse  d'Abrantes,  written 
by  herself,  and  containing  so  many  interesting  particu- 
lars of  the  French  Revolution  and  the  stirring  events 
which  succeeded  it,  she  states  that,  during  the  Con- 
sulate, when  Mademoiselle  Clairon  was  upward  of 
seventy  years  of  age,  she  (the  duchess)  made  her  ac- 
quaintance, and  heard  from  her  own  lips  the  above 
story,  of  which  she  gives  a  brief  and  not  very  accurate 
compendium.  In  regard  to  the  impression  which  Made- 
moiselle Clairon's  mode  of  relating  it  produced  on  the 
duchess,  that  lady  remarks, — 

"I  know  not  whether  in  al'  this  there  was  a  little 
exaggeration;  but  she  who  usually  spoke  in  a  tone 
savoring  of  exaltation,  when  she  canae  to  relate  this 
incident,  though  she  spoke  with  dignity,  laid  aside  all 
affectation  and  every  thing  which  could  be  construed 
into  dpeaking  for  effect.  Albert,  who  believed  in  mag- 
netism, wished,  after  having  heard  Mademoiselle  Clairon, 
to  persuade  me  that  the  thing  was  possible.  I  laughed 
at  him  then.  Alas  I  since  that  time  I  have  myself 
learned  a  terrible  lesson  in  credulity."* 

I  kuow  not  according  to  what  sound  principles  of 
evidence  we  can  refuse  credit  to  a  narrative  so  well 
authenticated  as  thjs.     The  phenonjena  were  observed, 


these  Memoirs  are  published  "  lyithojjt  the  change  of  a  single  word  from 
the  original  manuscript." 

*  "  if  (moires  de  Madame  la  Ducheaae  d'Abrant^t,  icrita  par  tM-mime," 
2d  ed.,  Paris,  1835,  vol.  ii.  p.  39. 


REMARKS.  448 

not  by  Mademoiselle  Clairon  only,  but  by  numcroug 
other  witnesses,  including  the  most  sharp-eyed  and  sus- 
picious  of  beings, — the  police-officers  of  Paris.  The 
record  of  them  is  still  to  be  found  in  the  archives  of 
that  police.  They  were  not  witnessed  once,  twice,  fifty 
times  only.  They  were  observed  throughout  more  than 
two  entire  years.  The  shot  against  a  certain  pane  of 
her  window  was  fired,  so  Mademoiselle  Clairon  ex- 
pressly  tells  us,  every  night,  at  the  same  hour,  for  three 
months, — therefore  ninety  times  in  succession.  What 
theory,  what  explanation,  will  account  for  a  trick  of 
Buch  a  character  that  could  for  so  long  a  space  of  time 
escape  the  argus  eyes  of  the  French  police  ?  Then  the 
cry  at  the  moment  when,  at  Rosely's  suggestion,  the 
phantom  was  evoked;  the  shot  against  the  carriage  from 

the  house  where  Monsieur  de  S had  resided :  what 

imaginable  trickery  could  be  at  the  bottom  of  these? 

The  incidents  occurred  in  Mademoiselle  Clairou's 
5'outh;  commencing  when  she  was  twenty-two  years 
and  a  half  old  and  terminating  when  she  was  twenty- 
five.  Nearly  fifty  years  afterward,  toward  the  close  of 
her  life,  in  that  period  of  calm  reflection  which  comes 
with  old  age,  she  still  preserved  that  deep  conviction  of 
the  reality  of  these  marvels  which  imparted  to  the  tone 
and  manner  of  her  narrative  the  attesting  simplicity 
of  truth. 

Finally,  the  coincidence  to  which  Mademoiselle  Clai- 
ron alludes  is  a  double  one;  first  as  to  the  incidents 
themselves,  then  as  to  the  period  of  their  continuance. 

Monsieur  de  S ,  with  his  dying  breath,  declared  that 

he  would  haunt  her;  and  this  she  knew  not  till  the 
persecution,  commencing  within  half  an  hour  after  his 
decease,  was  ended.  He  said,  further,  that  she  should 
be  followed  by  his  spirit  for  as  long  a  period  as  she  had 
helc*  him  enthralled.  But  from  the  period  of  his  ac- 
quaintance with  her  till  his  death  was  two  years  and  a 


4 14  suaaESTioNs. 

half,  while  from  this  latter  event  till  the  close  of  the 
disturbances  there  elapsed,  as  the  sufferer  tells  us,  two 
years  and  a  half  more. 

Yet  even  if  we  admit  in  this  case  the  reality  of  ultra- 
mundane agency,  I  do  not  presume  to  assert,as  a  corol- 
lary positively  proved,  that  it  was  the  spirit  of  Monsieur 

de  S which  fulfilled  the  threat  he  had  made.     That 

is  certainly  the  most  natural  explanation  which  suggests 
itself.  And  if  it  be  not  the  true  one,  chance,  at  least, 
is  insufficient  to  account  for  the  exact  manner  in  which 
the  declaration  of  the  dying  man  tallies  with  the  suffer- 
ings of  her  who  was  the  object  of  his  unfortunate  and 
unavailing  love. 

If  we  accept  this  narrative,  it  bears  with  it  an  addi- 
tional lesson.  Supposing  the  agency  of  the  disturbances 
to  be  spiritual,  we  cannot  regard  it  as  commissioned 
from  God,  any  more  than  we  do  the  annoyances  which 
a  neighbor,  taking  unjust  offense,  may  inflict,  in  this 
world,  on  his  offending  neighbor  in  retaliation.  Made- 
moiselle Clairon's  conduct  seems  to  haye  been  justifi- 
able and  prudent;  certainly  not  meriting  persecution  or 
punishment. 

Why,  then,  were  these  annoyances  permitted?  When 
we  can  tell  why  earthly  annoyances  are  often  allowed  to 
overtake  the  innocent,  it  will  be  time  enough  to  insist 
upon  an  answer  to  the  spiritual  question. 

Natural  phenomena  occur  under  general  laws,  not  by 
special  dispensation.  But  the  disturbances  above  re- 
corded were  doubtless  natural  phenomena. 

We  may  imagine  that  every  thing  in  the  next  world 
is  governed  by  pri  nciples  totally  differen  t  from  those  which 
we  see  in  operation  here.  But  why  should  we  imagine 
this?  Does  not  the  same  Providence  preside  on  the 
further  as  on  the  hither  side  of  the  Dark  Eiver  ? 

An  example  somewhat  more  closely  resembling  punish- 


MRS.  hall's  story.  445 

ment  really  merited  and  expressly  sent  is  the  following, 
— a  narrative  which  I  owe  to  the  kindness  of  Mrs.  S.  C. 
Hall,  the  author,  and  to  the  truth  of  w^hich,  as  will  b« 
seen,  she  bears  personal  testimony.  But  even  in  this 
case  can  we  rationally  assert  more  than  that  the  agency 
was  permitted,  not  commissioned  ? 

I  give  the  story  in  Mrs.  Hall's  own  words.  The  cir- 
cumstances occurred  in  London. 

WHAT   AN   ENGLISH   OFFICER   SUFFERED. 

"All  young  girls  have  friendships  one  with  another; 
and  when  I  was  seventeen  my  friend,  above  all  others, 

was  Kate  L .     She  was  a  young  Irish  lady,  my  senior 

by  three  years, — a  gentle,  affectionate,  pretty  creature, 
much  devoted  to  her  old  mother,  and  exercising  constant 
forbearance  toward  a  disagreeable  brother  who  would 
persist  in  playing  the  flute,  though  he  played  both  out 
of  time  and  tune.  This  brother  was  my  bete  noire;  and 
whenever  I  complained  of  his  bad  playing,  Kate  would 
say,  'Ah,  wait  till  Eobert  comes  home;  he  plays  and 
sings  like  an  angel,  and  is  so  handsome !' 

"This  *  Robert'  had  been  with  his  regiment  for  some 
years  in  Canada;  and  his  coming  home  was  to  be  the 
happiness  of  mother  and  daughter.  For  three  months 
before  his  return  nothing  else  was  talked  of  If  I  had 
had  any  talent  for  falling  in  love,  I  should  have  done 

so,  in  anticipation,  with  Robert  L ;  but  that  was 

not  my  weakness;  and  I  was  much  amused  with  my 
friend's  speculations  as  to  whether  Robert  would  fall  in 
love  with  me,  or  I  with  him,  first. 

"  When  we  met,  there  was,  happily,  no  danger  to  either. 
He  told  Kate  that  her  friend  was  always  laughing;  and 
I  thougnt  I  had  never  looked  on  a  face  so  beautiful  in 
outline  and  yet  so  haggard  and  painful.  His  large  blue 
eyes  were  deeply  set,  but  always  seemed  looking  for 
flomething  they  could  not  find.     To  look  at  him  mad© 


446  WHAT    AN   ENGLISH 

me  uiicorufortable.  But  this  was  not  so  strange  as  the 
ehangij  which,  after  a  time,  was  evident  in  Kate.  She 
had  become,  in  less  than  a  week,  cold  and  constrained. 
[  was  to  have  spent  a  day  with  her;  but  she  made  some 
apology,  and,  in  doing  so,  burst  into  tears.  Something 
was  evidently  Vvrong,  which  I  felt  satisfied  time  must 
disclose. 

"In  about  a  week  more  she  came  to  see  me  by  myself, 
looking  ten  years  older.  She  closed  the  door  of  my 
room,  and  then  said  she  desired  to  tell  me  something 
which  she  felt  I  could  hardly  believe,  but  that,  if  I  was 
not  afraid,  I  might  come  and  judge  for  myself. 

"  After  Robert's  return,  she  said,  for  a  week  or  so 
they  had  been  delightfully  happy.  But  very  soon — • 
she  thought  about  the  tenth  day,  or  rather  night — they 
were  alarmed  by  loud  raps  and  knocks  in  Robert's 
room.     It  was  the   back   room  on  the  same  floor  on 

which  Mrs.  L and  her  daughter  slept  together  in  a 

large  front  bed-chamber.  They  heard  him  swearing  at 
the  noise,  as  if  it  had  been  at  his  servant;  but  the  man 
did  not  sleep  in  the  house.  At  last  he  threw  his  boots 
at  it;  and  the  more  violent  he  became,  the  more  violent 
seemed  to  grow  the  disturbance. 

"At  last  his  mother  ventured  to  knock  at  his  door 
and  ask  what  was  the  matter.  He  told  her  to  come  in. 
She  brought  a  lighted  candle  and  set  it  on  the  table. 
As  she  entered,  her  son's  favorite  pointer  rushed  out  of 
the  room.  *So,*  he  said,  Hhe  dog's  gone!  I  have 
not  been  able  to  keep  a  dog  in  my  room  at  night  for 
years ;  but  under  your  roof,  mother,  I  fancied,  I  hoped, 
I  might  escape  a  persecution  that  I  see  now  pursues  me 
even  here.  I  am  sorry  for  Kate's  canary-bird  that  hung 
behind  the  curtain.  I  heard  it  fluttering  after  the  first 
round.     Of  course  it  is  dead !' 

*'The  old  lady  got  up,  all  trembling,  to  look  at  pooj- 


OFFICER    SUFFERED.  447 

Kate's  bird.  It  was  dead,  at  the  bottom  of  the  cage, — 
all  its  feathers  ruffled. 

*'<I8  there  no  Bible  in  the  room?'  she  inquired. 
'Yes/ — he  drew  one  from  under  his  pillow:  'that,  I 
think,  protects  me  from  blows.'  He  looked  so  dread- 
fully exhausted  that  his  mother  wished  to  leave  the 
room,  to  get  him  some  wine.  'No:  stay  here:  do  not 
leave  me !'  he  entreated.  Hardly  had  he  ceased  speak- 
ing, when  some  huge,  heavy  substance  seemed  rolling 
down  the  chimney  and  flopped  on  the  hearth;  but  Mrs. 

L saw  nothing.     The  next  moment,  as  from  a  strong 

wind,  the  light  was  extinguished,  while  knocks  and  raps 
and  a  rushing  sound  passed  round  the  apartment.    Eobert 

L alternately  prayed  and  swore;  and  the  old  lady, 

usually  remarkable  for  her  self-possession,  had  great 
difficulty  in  preventing  herself  from  fainting.  The 
noise  continued,  sometimes  seeming  like  violent  thumpSy 
sometimes  the  sounds  appearing  to  trickle  around  the 
room. 

"At  last  her  other  son,  roused  by  the  disturbance, 
came  in,  and  found  his  mother  on  her  knees,  praying. 

'*That  night  she  slept  in  her  son's  room,  or  rather  at- 
tempted to  do  so;  for  sleep  was  impossible,  though  her 
bed  was  not  touched  or  shaken.  Kate  remained  outside 
the  open  door.  It  was  impossible  to  see,  because,  imme- 
diately after  the  first  plunge  down  the  chimney,  the 
lights  were  extinguished. 

"The  next  morning,  Robert  told  his  family  that  for 
more  than  ten  years  he  had  been  the  victim  of  this  spirit- 
persecution.  If  he  lay  in  his  tent,  it  was  there,  disturb- 
ing his  brother  officers,  who  gradually  shunned  the  so- 
ciety of  *  the  haunted  man,'  as  they  called  him, — one  who 
» must  have  done  something  to  draw  down  such  punish- 
ment.' When  on  leave  of  absence,  he  v/ab  ^onerally 
free  from  the  visitation  for  three  or  four  nightvS;  then  it 
found  him  out  again.     He  never  was  suflfeiod  to  remain 


4\^  A    SUGGESTED   EXPLANATION 

in  a  lodging;  being  regularly  'warned  out'  by  the  house- 
holders, who  would  not  endure  the  noise. 

"After  breakfast,  the  next-door  neighbors  sent  in  to 
complain  of  the  noises  of  the  preceding  night.  On  the 
succeeding  nights,  several  friends  (two  or  three  of  whom 
I  knew)  sat  up  with  Mrs.  L ,  and  sought  to  investi- 
gate, according  to  human  means,  the  cause.  In  vain  ! 
They  verified  the  fact;  the  cause  remained  hidden  iu 
mystery. 

"Kate  wished  me  to  hear  for  myself;  but  I  had  not 
courage  to  do  so,  nor  would  my  dear  mother  have  per- 
mitted it. 

"No  inducement  could  prevail  on  the  pointer  to  return 
to  his  master's  room,  by  day  or  night.  He  was  a  recent 
purchase,  and,  until  the  first  noise  in  London  came,  had 
appreciated  Eobert's  kindness.  After  that,  he  evidently 
disliked  his  master.  '  It  is  the  old  story  over  again,' 
said  Eobert.  '  I  could  never  keep  a  dog.  I  thought  I 
would  try  again;  but  I  shall  never  have  any  thing  to 
love,  and  nothing  will  ever  be  permitted  to  love  mo.' 
The  animal  soon  after  got  out;  and  they  supposed  it 
ran  away,  or  was  stolen. 

"The  young  man,  seeing  his  mother  and  sister  fading 
away  under  anxiety  and  want  of  rest,  told  them  he 
could  bear  his  affliction  better  by  himself,  and  would 
therefore  go  to  Ireland,  his  native  country,  and  reside 
in  some  detached  country  cottage,  where  he  could  fish 
and  shoot. 

"He  went.  Before  his  departure  I  once  heard  the 
poor  fellow  say,  '  It  is  hard  to  be  so  punished;  but  per- 
haps I  have  deserved  it.' 

"  I  learned,  afterward,  that  there  was  more  than  a 
suspicion  that  he  had  abandoned  an  unfortunate  girl 
who 

*  Loved  not  wisely,  but  too  well ;' 


OF   THE   PRECEDING   CASE.  449 

and  that  she  died  in  America.  Be  this  as  it  may,  iu 
Ireland,  as  elsewhere,  the  visitation  followed  him  un- 
ceasingly. 

"This  spirit  never  spoke,  never  answered  questions; 
and  the  mode  of  communicating  now  so  general  was 
not  then  known.  If  it  had  been,  there  might  have  been 
a  different  result. 

"As  it  was,  Eobert  L 's  mode  of  life  in  his  native 

couutry  gave  his  mother  great  anxiety.  I  had  no  clew, 
however,  to  his  ultimate  fate;  for  his  sister  would  not 
tell  me  where  in  Ireland  he  had  made  his  miserable 
home. 

"My  friend  Kate  married  immediately  after  her  bro- 
ther left.  She  was  a  bride,  a  mother,  and  a  corpse  within 
a  year;  and  her  death  really  broke  her  mother's  heart: 
so  that  in  two  years  the  family  seemed  to  have  vanished, 
as  if  I  had  never  known  them.  I  have  sometimes 
thought,  however,  that  if  the  dear  old  lady  had  not  re- 
ceived such  a  shock  from  her  son's  spiritual  visitor,  she 
would  not  have  been  crushed  by  the  loss  of  her  daugh- 
ter; but  she  told  me  she  had  nothing  left  to  bind  her  to 
this  world. 

"I  have  often  regretted  that  I  had  not  watched  with 
my  young  friend  one  night;  but  the  facts  I  have  thrown 
together  were  known  to  certainly  twenty  persons  in 
London."* 

One  rarely  finds  a  narrative  better  authenticated,  or 
more  strongly  indicating  the  reality  of  an  ultramundane 
agency,  than  this.  It  is  attested  by  the  name  of  a  lady 
well  and  favorably  known  to  the  literary  world.  It  is 
true  that,  deterred  by  her  fears,  she  did  not  personally 
witness  the  disturbances.  But  if  she  had,  would  it  have 
lidded  materially  to  the  weight  of  her  testimony  as  it 
stands  ?     Could  she  doubt  the  reality  of  these  appalling 

*  Extracted  from  Mrs.  Hall's  letter  to  me,  dated  London,  March  31, 1859. 
2D  38* 


450  REMARKS   ON   THE   PRECEDING   CASE. 

demoiisfcrations  ?  Can  we  doubt  it  ?  The  testimony  of 
Mie  sister  and  the  mother,  whose  lives  this  fearful  visita- 
tion darkened  if  it  did  not  shorten,  to  say  nothing 
of  the  corroborative  evidence  furnished  by  friends  who 
sat  up  with  them  expressly  to  seek  out  some  explana- 
tion,— can  we  refuse  credit  to  all  this?  The  haggard 
and  careworn  looks  of  the  sufferer,  his  blighted  life, — 
could  these  have  been  simulated  ?  The  confession  to  his 
family,  wrung  from  him  by  the  recurrence,  in  his  mother's 
house,  of  the  torment  he  could  no  longer  conceal, — could 
that  be  a  lie?  Dumb  animals  attested  the  contrary. 
The  death  of  the  canary-bird,  the  terror  of  the  dog, — 
could  fancy  cause  the  one  or  create  the  other?  Or  shall 
we  resort  to  the  hypothesis  of  human  agency?  Ten 
years  had  the  avenging  sounds  pursued  the  unfortunate 
man.  In  tent  or  tavern,  in  country  or  city,  go  where 
he  would,  the  terrible  Intrusion  still  dogged  his  steps. 
The  maternal  home  was  no  city  of  refuge  from  the  pur- 
suer. To  the  wilds  of  Ireland  it  followed  the  culprit 
in  his  retreat.  Even  if  such  human  vengeance  were 
conceivable,  would  not  human  ingenuity  be  powerless  to 
carry  it  out  ? 

But,  if  we  concede  the  reality  and  the  spiritual  cha- 
racter of  the  demonstration,  are  we  to  admit  also  the 
explanation  hypothetically  suggested  by  the  narrator? 

Was  Eobert  L really  thus  punished,  through  life, 

for  one  of  the  worst,  because  one  of  the  most  selfish  and 
heartless  and  misery-bringing,  in  the  list  of  human  sins? 
He  himself  seemed  to  be  of  that  opinion  :  "  Perhaps  I 
have  deserved  it"  was  the  verdict  of  his  conscience.  It 
may  be  rash,  with  our  present  limited  knowledge  of 
ultramundane  laws,  to  assert  any  thing  in  the  pre- 
mises; knowing  as  we  do  that  tens  of  thousands  of 
such  offenders  pass  through  life  un whipped  of  justice.* 

*  It  does  not  by  any  means  follow,  however,  that  because  many  similar 
ofienden  escape  unpunished,  there  was  nothing  retributive  in  the  inrldenfai 


UNCERTAINTIES.  451 

Yet,  if  we  reject  that  hypothesis,  what  other,  more 
plausible,  remains? 

Even  if  we  accept  that  explanation,  however,  it  is  not 
to  be  assumed,  as  of  course,  that  it  was  the  spirit  of  his 
poor  victim  that  thus  ceaselessly  followed  her  deserter, 
the  betrayer  of  her  trust.  Love  ma}^  be  changed,  for  a 
time,  into  vehement  dislike:  it  is  difficult  to  believe  that, 
after  the  earthly  tenement  is  gone,  it  should  harden 
into  hate  eternal  and  unrelenting.  And  we  can  con- 
ceive that  some  other  departed  spirit,  of  evil  nature, 
obtaining  power  over  the  wretched  man  by  the  aid  of 
an  impressible  temperament  wrought  upon  by  a  con- 
science haunted  by  remorse,  might  have  been  permitted 
(who  can  tell  under  what  law  or  for  what  purpose?) 
to  visit,  with  such  retribution,  the  evil  deed. 

But  here  we  enter  the  regions  of  conjecture.  These 
events  happened  long  before  Spiritualism  had  become  a 
distinctive  name.  No  attempt  was  made  to  communi- 
cate with  the  sounds.  No  explanation,  therefore,  trust- 
worthy or  apocryphal,  was  reached.  There  was  no 
chance,  then,  given  to  conciliate;  no  opportunity  afforded 
for  propitiation. 

It  has  been  alleged  that,  in  many  modern  instances 
of  what  had  assumed  the  character  of  spiritual  inter- 
ference, the  disturbance  ceased  when  communication,  by 
knockings,  was  sought  and  obtained.     So  it  might  have 

been,  as  Mrs.  Hall  suggests,  in  the  case  of  Eobert  L . 

And,  if  so,  the  spirit-rap,  lightly  esteemed  by  many  as 
it  is,  might  have  brought  to  repentance  and  saved  from 
hopeless  suffering — possibly  premature  death — a  young 
man  with  heavy  guilt,  indeed,  upon  his  soul,  yet  not  a 
sinner  above  all  men  that  dwelt  in  London. 

here  related.  In  this  mysteriously-governed  world  some  criminals  escape, 
while  others,  less  guilty  perhaps,  are  overtaken.  "Those  eighteen  upon 
whom  the  tower  in  Siloam  fell,  and  slew  them,  think  ye  that  they  wer« 
tinners  above  all  men  that  dwelt  in  Jerusalem?" — Luke  xiii.  4. 


CHAPTEE  II. 

GUARDIANSHIP. 

A  PLEASANTER  task  remains;  to  speak,  namely,  of  tlie 
indications  that  reach  us  of  ultramundane  aid  and  spi- 
ritual protection. 

Three  stories  have  come  to  my  knowledge,  in  each 
of  which  the  subject  of  the  narrative  is  alleged  to 
have  been  saved  from  death  by  an  apparition  seeming 
to  be  the  counterpart  of  himself:  one  related  of  an  Eng- 
lish clergyman,  traveling,  late  at  night,  in  a  lonely  lane, 
by  whose  side  the  figure  suddenly  appeared,  and  thus 
(as  the  clergyman  afterward  ascertained)  deterred  two 
men,  bent  on  murder  and  robbery,  from  attacking  him; 
and  both  the  others — the  one  occurring  to  a  student  in 
Edinburgh,  the  other  to  a  fashionable  young  man  in 
Berlin — being  examples  in  which  the  seer  is  said  to  have 
been  warned  from  occupying  his  usual  chamber,  which 
had  he  occupied,  he  would  have  perished  by  the  falling 
in  of  a  portion  of  the  house. 

But  these  anecdotes,  though  for  each  there  is  plausible 
evidence,  do  not  come  within  the  rule  I  have  laid  down 
to  myself  of  sufficient  authentication. 

A  somewhat  similar  story  is  related  and  vouched  for 
by  Jung  Stilling,  of  a  certain  Professor  Bohm,  of  Mar- 
burg, in  whose  case,  however,  the  warning  came  by  an 
urgent  presentiment  only,  not  b}'-  an  actual  apparition.* 

Such  a  case  of  presentiment,  though  the  danger  was* 
to  another,  not  to  the  subject  of  it,  came  to  me,  througb 
the  kindness  of  a  lady,  at  first  hand,  as  follows : — 

*  "  Theorie  der  Geiaterhunde." 


A    WASHINGTON    ANECDOTE.  46ix 

\ 

HOW  SENATOR  LINN'S  LIFE  WAS  SAVED. 

Those  who  were  familiar  with  the  political  history  oi 
our  country  twenty  years  ago  remember  well  Dr.  Linn, 
of  Missouri.  Distinguished  for  talents  and  professional 
ability,  but  yet  more  for  the  excellence  of  his  heart,  he 
received,  by  a  distinction  as  rare  as  it  was  honorable, 
the  unanimous  vote  of  the  Legislature  for  the  office  of 
Senator  of  the  United  States. 

In  discharge  of  his  Congressional  duties,  he  was  re- 
siding with  his  family  in  Washington,  during  the  spring 
and  summer  of  1840,  the  last  year  of  Mr.  Van  Buren's 
administration. 

One  day  during  the  month  of  May  of  that  year,  Dr. 
and  Mrs.  Linn  received  an  invitation  to  a  large  and 
formal  dinner-party,  given  by  a  public  functionaiy,  and 
to  which  the  most  prominent  members  of  the  Adminis- 
tration party,  including  the  President  himself  and  our 
present  Chief  Magistrate,  Mr.  Buchanan,  were  invited 
guests.  Dr.  Linn  was  very  anxious  to  be  present;  but, 
when  the  day  came,  finding  himself  suffering  from  an 
attack  of  indigestion,  he  begged  his  wife  to  bear  his 
apology  in  person,  and  make  one  of  the  dinner-party, 
leaving  him  at  home.  To  this  she  somewhat  reluctantly 
consented.  She  was  accompanied  to  the  door  of  their 
host  by  a  friend,  General  Jones,  who  promised  to  return 
and  remain  with  Dr.  Linn  during  the  evening. 

At  table  Mrs.  Linn  sat  next  to  General  Macomb,  who 
had  conducted  her  to  dinner;  and  immediately  opposite 
to  her  sat  Silas  Wright,  Senator  from  New  York,  the 
most  intimate  friend  of  her  husband,  and  a  man  by 
whose  death,  shortly  after,  the  country  sustained  an 
irreparable  loss. 

Even  during  the  early  part  of  the  dinner,  Mrs.  Linn 
felt  very  uneasy  about  her  husband.  She  tried  to  reason 
nerself  out  of  this,  as  she  knew  that  his  indisposition 


4:54  HOW   SENATOR   LINN  S 

was  noi  at  all  serious;  but  in  vain.  She  mentioned  her 
uneasiness  to  General  Macomb;  but  he  reminded  her  of 
what  she  herself  had  previously  told  him, — that  General 
Jones  had  promised  to  remain  with  Dr.  Linn,  and  that, 
in  the  very  unlikely  contingency  of  any  sudden  illness, 
he  would  be  sure  to  apprize  her  of  it.  ISTotwithstanding 
these  representations,  as  dinner  drew  toward  a  close 
this  unaccountable  uneasiness  increased  to  such  an  un- 
controllable impulse  to  return  home,  that,  as  she  expressed 
it  to  me,  she  felt  that  she  could  not  sit  there  a  moment 
longer.  Her  sudden  pallor  was  noticed  by  Senator 
Wright,  and  excited  his  alarm.  "I  am  sure  you  are  ill, 
Mrs.  Linn,"  he  said:  "what  is  the  matter?"  She  re- 
plied that  she  was  quite  well,  but  that  she  must  return 
to  her  husband.  Mr.  Wright  sought,  as  General  Macomb 
had  done,  to  calm  her  fears;  but  she  replied  to  him,  ''If 
you  wish  to  do  me  a  favor  for  which  I  shall  be  grateful 
while  T  live,  make  some  excuse  to  our  host,  so  that  we 
can  leave  the  table."  Seeing  her  so  greatly  excited,  he 
complied  with  her  request,  though  they  were  then  but 
serving  the  dessert;  and  he  and  Mrs.  Wright  accom- 
panied Mrs.  Linn  home. 

As  they  were  taking  leave  of  her  at  the  door  of  her 
lodgings.  Senator  Wright  said,  "I  shall  call  to-morrow 
morning,  and  have  a  good  laugh  with  the  doctor  and 
yourself  over  your  panic  apprehensions." 

As  Mrs.  Linn  passed  hastily  up-stairs,  she  met  the 
landlady.  "How  is  Dr.  Linn?"  she  anxiously  asked. 
"Yery  well,  1  believe,"  was  the  reply:  "he  took  a  bath 
more  than  an  hour  ago,  and  I  dare  say  is  sound  asleep 
by  this  time.  General  Jones  said  he  was  doing  extremely 
well." 

"The  general  is  with  him,  is  he  not?" 

'*I  believe  not.  I  think  I  saw  him  pass  out  about 
half  an  hour  ago." 

In  a  measure  reassured,  Mrs.  Linn  hastened  to  h&r 


LIFE    WAS    SAVED.  455 

husband's  bed-chamber,  the  door  of  which  was  closed. 
As  she  opened  it,  a  dense  smoke  burst  upon  her,  in  such 
stifling  quantity  that  she  staggered  and  fell  on  the 
threshold.  Recovering  herself  after  a  few  seconds,  she 
rushed  into  the  room.  The  bolster  was  on  fire,  and  the 
feathers  burned  with  a  bright  glow  and  a  suffocating 
odor.  She  threw  herself  upon  the  bed;  but  the  fire, 
half  smothered  till  that  moment,  was  fanned  by  the 
draught  from  the  opened  door,  and,  kindling  into  sudden 
flame,  caught  her  light  dress,  which  was  in  a  blaze  on 
the  instant.  At  the  same  moment  her  eye  fell  on  the 
large  bath-tub  that  had  been  used  by  her  husband.  She 
sprang  into  it,  extinguishing  her  burning  dress;  then, 
returning  to  the  bed,  she  caught  up  the  pillow  and  a 
sheet  that  was  on  fire,  scorching  her  arms  in  so  doing, 
and  plunged  both  into  the  water.  Finally,  exerting  her 
utmost  strength,  she  drew  from  the  bed  her  insensible 
husband.  It  was  then  only  that  she  called  to  the  people 
of  the  house  for  aid. 

Dr.  Sewell  was  instantly  summoned.  But  it  was  full 
half  an  hour  before  the  sufferer  gave  any  signs  whatever 
of  returning  animation.  He  did  not  leave  his  bed  for 
nearly  a  week;  and  it  was  three  months  before  he  en- 
tirely recovered  from  the  effects  of  this  accident. 

"How  fortunate  it  was,"  said  Dr.  Sewell  to  Mrs.  Linn, 
"that  you  arrived  at  the  very  moment  you  did!  Five 
minutes  more, — nay,  three  minutes, — and,  in  all  human 
probability,  you  would  have  never  seen  your  husband 
alive  again." 

Mr.  Wright  called,  as  he  promised,  the  next  morning. 
"Well,  Mrs.  Linn,"  said  he,  smiling,  "you  have  found 
out  by  this  time  how  foolish  that  strange  presentiment 
of  yours  was." 

"Come  up-stairs,"  she  replied.  And  she  led  him  to 
his  friend,  scarcely  yet  able   to  speak;   and  then  she 


156  WAS    IT    CLAIRVOYANCE    OR    PRESCIENCE? 

Bhowed  him  the  remains  of  the  half-consumed  bolster 
and  partiallj-burned  bed-linen. 

Whether  the  sight  changed  his  opinion  on  the  subject 
of  presentiments!  cannot  tell;  but  he  turned  pale  as  a 
corpse,  (Mrs.  Linn  said,)  and  did  not  utter  a  word. 

I  had  all  the  above  particulars  from  Mrs.  Linn  her- 
self,* together  with  the  permission  to  publish  them  in 
illustration  of  the  subject  I  am  treating,  attested  by 
date  and  names. 

There  is  one  point  in  connection  with  the  above  narra- 
tive which  is  worthy  of  special  examination.  In  case 
we  admit  that  Mrs.  Linn's  irresistible  impulse  to  leave 
the  dinner-table  was  a  spiritual  impression,  the  question 
remains,  was  it  a  warning  of  evil  then  existing,  or  was 
it  a  presentiment  of  evil  that  was  still  to  arise  ?  In 
other  words,  was  it  in  its  character  only  clairvoyant,  or 
was  it  in  its  nature  clearly  prophetic? 

The  impression  was  distinctlj^  produced  on  Mrs.  Linn's 
mind,  as  that  lady  told  me,  at  least  half  an  hour  before 
it  became  so  urgent  as  to  compel  her  to  leave  the  enter- 
tainment. When  she  did  leave,  as  the  carriages  were 
not-  ordered  till  eleven  o'clock,  and  no  hackney-coach 
was  at  hand,  she  and  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Wright,  as  she  fur- 
ther stated  to  me,  returned  on  foot.  The  distance  being 
a  mile  and  a  half,  they  were  fully  half  an  hour  in  walk- 
ing it.  It  follows  that  Mrs.  Linn  was  impressed  to 
return  more  than  an  hour  before  she  opened  the  door 
of  the  bedroom. 

Now,  it  is  highly  improbable  that  the  fire  should  have 
caught,  or  that  any  thing  should  have  happened  likely 
to  lead  to  it,  in  the  bedroom  as  much  as  an  hour,  or 
even  half  an  hour,  before  Mrs.  Linn's  arrival.  But  if 
not, — if,  at  the  moment  Mrs.  Linn  was  first  impressed, 
no  condition  of  things  existed  which,  to  human  percep- 

»  In  Washington,  on  the  4th  of  July,  1859- 


THE   trapper's   STORY.  457 

tions,  could  indicate  danger, — then,  unless  we  refer  the 
whole  to  chance  coincidence,  the  case  is  one  involving 
not  only  a  warning  presentiment,  but  a  prophetic  instinct. 

More  distinct  still,  as  an  example  of  what  seems  pro- 
tective agency,  is  the  following  from  a  recent  work  by 
the  Eev.  Dr.  Bushnell. 

HELP  AMID   THE  SNOW-DRIFTS. 

"  As  I  sat  by  the  fire,  one  stormy  November  night,  in 
a  hotd-parlor,  in  the  Napa  Yalley  of  California,  there 
came  in  a  most  venerable  and  benignant-looking  person, 
with  his  wife,  taking  their  seats  in  the  circle.  The 
stranger,  as  I  afterward  learned,  was  Captain  Yo'int,  a 
man  who  came  over  into  California,  as  a  trapper,  more 
than  forty  years  ago.  Here  he  has  lived,  apart  from 
the  great  world  and  its  questions,  acquiring  an  immense 
landed  estate,  and  becoming  a  kind  of  acknowledged 
patriarch  in  the  country.  His  tall,  manly  person,  and 
his  gracious,  paternal  look,  as  totally  unsophisticated  in 
the  expression  as  if  he  had  never  heard  of  a  philosophic 
doubt  or  question  in  his  life,  marked  him  as  the  true 
patriarch.  The  conversation  turned,  I  know  not  how, 
on  spiritism  and  the  modern  necromancy  j  and  he  dis- 
covered a  degree  of  inclination  to  believe  in  the  reported 
mysteries.  His  wife,  a  much  younger  and  apparently 
Christian  person,  intimated  that  probably  he  was  pre- 
disposed to  this  kind  of  faith  by  a  very  peculiar  expe- 
rience of  his  own,  and  evidently  desired  that  he  might 
be  drawn  out  by  some  intelligent  discussion  of  his 
queries. 

"At  my  request,  he  gave  me  his  storj-.  About  six  or 
seven  years  previous,  in  a  mid-winter's  night,  he  had  a 
dream  in  which  he  saw  what  appeared  to  be  a  company 
of  emigrants  arrested  by  the  snows  of  the  mountains 
and  perishing  rapidly  by  cold  and  hunger.     He  noted 


458  HELP   AMID   THE    SNOW-DRIFTS. 

the  very  cast  of  the  scenery,  marked  by  a  huge  perpen- 
dicular front  of  white  rock  cliff;  he  saw  the  men  cutting 
oif  what  appeared  to  be  tree-tops  rising  out  of  deep 
gulfs  of  snow;  he  distinguished  the  very  features  of  the 
persons  and  the  look  of  their  particular  distress.  He 
woke  profoundly  impressed  with  the  distinctness  and 
apparent  reality  of  his  dream.  At  length  he  fell  asleep 
and  dreamed  exactly  the  same  dream  again.  In  the 
morning  he  could  not  expel  it  from  his  mind.  Falling 
in,  shortly,  with  an  old  hunter  comrade,  he  told  him  the 
story,  and  was  only  the  more  deeply  impressed  by  his 
recognizing,  without  hesitation,  the  scenery  of  the 
dream.  This  comrade  had  come  over  the  Sierra  by  the 
Carson  Valley  Pass,  and  declared  that  a  spot  in  the 
pass  answered  exactly  to  his  description.  By  this  the 
unsophisticated  patriarch  was  decided.  He  immediately 
collected  a  company  of  men  with  mules  and  blankets 
and  all  necessary  provisions.  The  neighbors  were 
laughing,  meantime,  at  his  credulity.  'No  matter,' 
said  he :  *  I  am  able  to  do  this,  and  I  will ;  for  I  verily 
believe  that  the  fact  is  according  to  my  dream.'  The 
men  were  sent  into  the  mountains,  one  hundred  and 
fifty  miles  distant,  directly  to  the  Carson  Valley  Pass. 
And  there  they  found  the  company  in  exactly  the  con- 
dition of  the  dream,  and  brought  in  the  remnant  alive."* 
Dr.  Bushnell  adds,  that  a  gentleman  present  said  to 
him,  "You  need  have  no  doubt  of  this;  for  we  Cali- 
fomians  all  know  the  facts  and  the  names  of  the  families 
brought  in,  who  now  look  upon  our  venerable  friend  as 
a  kind  of  Savior."  These  names  he  gave,  together  with 
the  residences  of  each;  and  Dr.  Bushnell  avers  that  he 
found  the  Californians  everywhere  ready  to  second  tho 
old  man's  testimony.     "  Nothing  could  be  more  natural," 


•  "Nature  and  the  Supernatural"  by  Horace  Bushnell,  New  York,  186i, 
pp.  475.  476.     George  C.  Yount  was  the  trapper's  name. 


WAS   IT   ACCIDENT?  459 

continues  the  doctor,  "  than  for  the  good-hearted  patn 
arch  himself  to  add  that  the  brightest  thing  in  his  life, 
and  that  which  gave  him  the  greatest  joy,  was  his  simple 
faith  in  that  dream." 

Here  is  a  fact  known  and  acknowledged  by  a  wholo 
community.  That  it  actually  occurred  is  beyond  cavil. 
But  how  could  it  occur  by  chance?  In  the  illimitable 
wintry  wilderness,  with  its  hundred  passes  and  its  thou- 
sand emigrants,  how  can  a  purely  accidental  fancy  be 
supposed,  without  ultramundane  interference,  to  shape 
into  the  semblance  of  reality  a  scene  actually  existing 
a  hundred  and  fifty  miles  off,  though  wholly  unknown 
to  the  dreamer, — not  the  landscape  only,  with  its  white 
cliffs  and  its  snow-buried  trees,  but  the  starving  tra- 
velers cutting  the  tree-tops  in  a  vain  effort  to  avert  cold 
and  famine?  He  who  credits  this  believes  a  marvel  far 
greater  than  the  hypothesis  of  spiritual  guardianship. 

In  support  of  that  hypothesis,  however,  there  are 
well-attested  narratives,  indicating,  more  directly  than 
this  story  of  the  Californian  trapper,  loving  care  on  the 
part  of  the  departed.  One  of  these  will  be  found  in  a 
work  on  the  supernatural  by  the  Eev.  Dr.  Edwards.  He 
communicates  it  in  the  shape  of  an  "extract  of  a  letter 
from  an  enlightened  and  learned  divine  in  the  north  of 
Germany."  The  incident  occuiTcd,  he  tells  us,  at  Levin, 
a  village  belonging  to  the  Duchy  of  Mecklenburg,  not 
far  from  Demmin,  in  Prussian  Pomerania,  on  the  Sun- 
day before  Michaelmas,  in  the  year  1759.  The  extract 
referred  to  (the  title  only  added  by  me)  is  as  follows: — 

UNEXPECTED    CONSOLATION. 

"I  will  now,  in  conclusion,  mention  to  you  a  very 
edifying  story  of  an  apparition,  for  the  truth  of  which 
I  can  vouch,  with  all  that  is  dear  to  me.  My  late 
mothftr,   a  pattern  of  true  piety,  and  a  woman  who 


460  STORY   RELATED   BY 

was  regular  in  prayer,  lost,  quite  unexpectedly- 
after  a  short  illness,  arising  from  a  sore  throat,  my 
younger  sister,  a  girl  of  about  fourteen  years  of  age. 
Now,  as  during  her  illness  she  had  not  spoken  much 
with  her  on  spiritual  subjects,  by  no  means  supposing 
her  end  so  near,  (although  my  father  had  done  so,)  she 
reproached  and  grieved  herself  most  profoundly,  not 
only  on  this  account,  but  also  for  not  having  sufficiently 
nursed  and  attended  upon  her,  or  for  having  neglected 
something  that  might  have  brought  on  her  death.  This 
feeling  took  so  much  hold  of  her,  that  she  not  only 
altered  much  in  her  appearance,  from  loss  of  appetite, 
but  became  so  monosyllabic  in  speaking  that  she  never 
expressed  herself  except  on  being  interrogated.  She 
still,  however,  continued  to  pray  diligently  in  her  cham- 
ber. Being  already  grown  up  at  the  time,  I  spoke  with 
my  father  respecting  her,  and  asked  him  what  was  to 
be  done,  and  how  my  good  mother  might  be  comforted. 
He  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  gave  me  to  understand 
that,  unless  God  interposed,  he  feared  the  worst. 

Now,  it  happened,  some  days  after,  when  we  were  all, 
one  Sunday  morning,  at  church,  with  the  exception  of 
my  mother,  who  remained  at  home,  that  on  rising  up 
from  prayer,  in  her  closet,  she  heard  a  noise  as  though 
some  one  was  with  her  in  the  room.  On  looking  about 
to  ascertain  whence  the  noise  proceeded,  something 
took  hold  of  her  invisibly  and  pressed  her  firmly  to  it, 
as  if  she  had  been  embraced  by  some  one,  and  the  same 
moment  she  heard, — without  seeing  any  thing  whatever, 
— very  distinctly,  the  voice  of  her  departed  daughter, 
saying  quite  plainly  to  her,  'Mamma!  mamma!  I  am 
so  happy !  I  am  so  happy  /'  Immediately  after  these 
words,  the  pressure  subsided,  and  my  mother  felt  and 
heard  nothing  more.  But  what  a  wished-for  (jhango 
did  we  all  perceive  in  our  dear  mother  on  coming  home! 
She  had  regained  her  speech  and  former  cheerfulness; 


A   GERMAN    DIVINE. 

she  ate  and  drank,  and  rejoiced  with  us  at  the 
which  the  Lord  had  bestowed  upon  her;  nor  during  1 
whole  life  did  she  even  notice  again,  with  grief,  the 
great  loss  which  she  had  suffered  by  the  decease  of  this 
excellent  daughter."* 

That  this  was  a  case  of  hallucination  of  two  senses, 
hearing  and  feeling,  can  be  considered  probable  only  if 
no  unequivocal  examples  of  similar  agency  can  be  found. 
And  if,  to  some  persons,  speech  by  an  inhabitant  of 
another  world,  audible  upon  earth,  seem  an  impossible 
phenomenon,  let  them  read  the  following,  communicated 
to  me  by  a  gentleman  to  whose  lady,  as  our  readers 
have  seen,  I  am  already  indebted  for  one  of  the  most 
striking  narratives  in  connection  with  personal  in- 
terferences. 

GASPAR. 

"At  Worcester,  a  few  weeks  since,  I  accidentally  met, 
at  the  house  of  a  banker  in  that  city,  a  lady  whom  I 
had  not  previously  known;  and  from  her  lips  I  heard  a 
story  of  a  character  so  extraordinary  that  no  common- 
place voucher  for  the  veracity  of  the  narrator  would 
suffice,  in  the  eyes  of  most  people,  to  establish  its 
authenticity. 

"  Nor  was  it  an  ordinary  testimonial  which,  on  apply- 
ing to  our  host,  he  furnished  to  me.  He  had  known  the 
lady,  he  said,  for  more  than  thirty  years.  ^  So  great  is 
her  truth,'  he  added,  ^so  easily  proved  is  her  upright- 
ness, that  I  cannot  entertain  a  doubt  that  she  herself 
believes  whatever  she  says.'  Blameless  in  her  walk  and 
conversation,  he  regarded  it  as  an  incredibility  that  she 
should  seek  to  deceive.  Of  strong  mind,  and  intelligent 
upon  all  subjects,  it  seemed  almost  as  difficult  for  him  to 


*  **  The  Doctrine  of  the  Supernatural  Establiahed,"  by  Henry  Edwards,  D.D.* 
LL.D.,  F.A.S.,  P.G.S.,  Ac,  London,  1845,  pp.  226  to  228. 
.39* 


462  CHARACTER   OF   THE   WITNESS. 

imagind  that  in  the  narrative  he  had  himself  frequetitly 
heard  from  her  lips — clear  and  circumstantial  as  it  was— 
she  should  have  been  a  self-deceiver.  And  thus  he  was 
in  a  dilemma.  For  the  facts  were  of  a  character  which 
he  was  extremely  reluctant  to  admit ;  while  the  evidence 
was  of  a  stamp  which  it  seemed  impossible  to  question. 

"  My  own  observation  of  the  lady,  stranger  as  she  was 
to  me,  confirmed  every  thing  which  her  friend  the  banker 
had  told  me  in  her  favor.  There  was  in  her  face  and 
manner,  even  in  the  tones  of  her  voice,  that  nameless 
something,  rarely  deceptive,  which  carries  conviction  of 
truth.  As  she  repeated  the  story,  I  could  not  choose  but 
trust  to  her  sincerity;  and  this  the  rather  because  she 
spoke  with  evident  reluctance.  ^It  was  rarely,'  the 
banker  said,  'that  she  could  be  prevailed  on  to  relate 
the  circumstances, — her  hearers  being  usually  skeptics, 
more  disposed  to  laugh  than  to  sympathize  with  her.* 

"Add  to  this,  that  neither  the  lady  nor  the  banker 
were  believers  in  Spiritualism, — having  heard,  as  they 
told  me,  '  next  to  nothing'  on  the  subject. 

"I  commit  no  breach  of  confidence  in  the  following 
communication.  '  If  you  speak  of  this  matter,'  said 
the  lady  to  me,  '  I  will  ask  you  to  suppress  the  name 
of  the  place  in  France  where  the  occurrences  took 
place.'  This  I  have  accordingly  done.  I  may  add 
that  the  incidents  here  related  had  been  the  frequent 
subject  of  conversation  and  comment  between  the  lady 
and  her  friends. 

"  Thus  premising,  I  proceed  to  give  the  narrative  as 
nearly  as  I  can  in  the  lady's  words. 

" '  About  the  year  1820,'  she  said,  *  we  were  residing 

at  the  seaport  town  of ,  in  France,  having  removed 

thither  from  our  residence  in  Sufi'olk.  Our  family  con- 
sisted of  my  father,  mother,  sister,  a  young  brother 
about  the  age  of  twelve,  and  myself,  together  with  an 
English  servant.     Our  house  was  in  a  lonely  spot,  on 


THE   FIGURE   IN    THE   CLOAK.  468 

tho  outskirts  of  the  town,  with  a  broad,  open  beach 
around  it,  and  with  no  other  dwelling,  nor  any  outbuild- 
ings, in  its  vicinity. 

"'One  evening  ray  father  saw,  seated  on  a  fragment 
of  rock  only  a  few  yards  from  his  own  door,  a  figure 
enveloped  in  a  large  cloak.  Approaching  him,  my 
father  bid  him  "good-evening;"  but,  receiving  no  reply, 
ho  ^umed  to  enter  the  house.  Before  doing  so,  however, 
he  looked  back,  and,  to  his  very  great  surprise,  could 
see  no  one.  His  astonishment  reached  its  height  when, 
on  returning  to  the  rock  where  the  figure  had  seemed 
seated,  and  searching  all  round  it,  he  could  discover  no 
trace  whatever  of  the  appearance,  although  there  was 
not  the  slightest  shelter  near  where  any  one  could  have 
sought  concealment. 

"  '  On  entering  the  sitting-room,  he  said,  "  Children,  I 
have  seen  a  ghost  I" — at  which,  as  may  be  supposed,  we 
all  heartily  laughed. 

*< '  That  night,  however,  and  for  several  succeeding 
nights,  we  heard  strange  noises  in  various  parts  of  the 
house, — sometimes  resembling  moans  underneath  our 
window,  sometimes  sounding  like  scratches  against 
the  window-frames,  while  at  other  times  it  seemed  as 
if  a  number  of  persons  were  scrambling  over  the  roof. 
We  opened  our  window  again  and  again,  calling  out  to 
know  if  any  one  were  there,  but  received  no  answer. 

"  '  After  some  days,  the  noises  made  their  way  into 
our  bedroom,  where  my  sister  and  myself  (she  twenty 
and  I  eighteen  years  of  age)  slept  together.  We  alarmed 
the  house,  but  received  only  reproaches,  our  parents 
believing  that  we  were  affected  by  silly  fancies.  The 
noises  in  our  room  were  usually  knocks, — sometimes 
repeated  twenty  or  thirty  times  in  a  minute,  some- 
times with  the  space  perhaps  of  a  minute  between  each. 

"*At  length  our  parents  also  heard  both  the  koock- 
ings  in  our  room  and  the  noises  outside,  and  were  fain 


464  GASPAR. 

to  aclmjt  that  it  was  no  imagination.  Then  the  incident 
of  the  ghost  was  revived.  But  none  of  us  were  seriously 
alarmed.     We  became  accustomed  to  the  disturbances. 

"  ^  One  night,  during  the  usual  knockings,  it  occurred 
U)  me  to  say,  aloud,  "If  you  are  a  spirit,  knock  six 
times.^'  Immediately  I  heard  six  knocks,  very  distinctly 
given,  and  no  more. 

"'As  time  passed  on,  the  noises  became  so  familiar  as 
to  lose  all  terrifying,  even  all  disagreeable,  effect;  and 
so  matters  passed  for  several  weeks. 

" '  But  the  most  remarkable  part  of  my  story  remains 
to  be  told.  I  should  hesitate  to  repeat  it  to  you,  were 
not  all  the  members  of  my  family  witnesses  of  its  truth. 
My  brother — then,  it  is  true,  a  boy  only,  now  a  man  in 
years,  and  high  in  his  profession — will  confirm  every  par- 
ticular. 

" '  Besides  the  knockings  in  our  bedroom,  we  began  to 
hear — usually  in  the  parlor — what  seemed  a  human  voice. 
The  first  time  this  startling  phenomenon  occurred,  the 
voice  was  heard  to  join  in  one  of  the  domestic  songs  of 
the  family  while  my  sister  was  at  the  piano.  You  may 
imagine  our  astonishment.  But  we  were  not  long  left 
in  doubt  as  to  whether,  in  this  instance,  our  imagina- 
tions had  deceived  us.  After  a  time,  the  voice  began  to 
speak  to  us  clearly  and  intelligibly,  joining  from  time  to 
time  in  the  conversation.  The  tones  were  low,  slow,  and 
solemn,  but  quite  distinct :  the  language  was  uniformly 
French. 

"'The  spirit — ^for  such  we  called  it — gave  his  name  as 
Gaspar,  but  remained  silent  whenever  we  made  inquiry 
touching  his  history  and  condition  in  life.  Nor  did  he 
ever  assign  any  motive  for  his  communications  with  us. 
We  received  the  impression  that  he  was  a  Spaniard; 
but  I  cannot  recall  any  certain  reason,  even,  for  such 
belief  He  always  called  the  family  by  their  Christian 
names.     Occasionally  he  would  repeat  to  us  lines  of 


riiREE  years'  phenomena.  465 

poetry.  He  never  spoke  on  subjects  of  a  religious  nature 
or  tendency,  but  constantly  inculcated  Christian  morality, 
seeming  desirous  to  impress  upon  us  the  wisdom  of  virtue 
and  the  beauty  of  harmony  at  home.  Once,  when  my 
sister  and  myself  had  some  slight  dispute,  we  heard  the 

voice  saying,  "M is  wrong;  S is  right."     From 

the  time  he  first  declared  himself  ho  was  continually 
giving  us  advice,  and  always  for  good.* 

"  '  On  one  occasion  my  father  was  extremely  desirous 
to  recover  some  valuable  papers  which  he  feared  might 
have  been  lost.  Gaspar  told  him  exactly  where  they 
were,  in  our  old  house  in  Suffolk ;  and  there,  sure  enough, 
in  the  very  place  he  designated,  they  were  found. 

"'The  matter  went  on  in  this  manner /or  more  than 
three  years.  Every  member  of  the  family,  including  the 
servants,  had  heard  the  voice.  The  presence  of  the 
spirit — for  we  could  not  help  regarding  him  as  present 
— was  always  a  pleasure  to  us  all.  We  came  to  regard 
him  as  our  companion  and  protector.  One  day  he  s^id, 
*<  I  shall  not  be  with  you  again  for  some  months."  And, 
accordingly,  for  several  months  his  visits  intermitted. 
When,  one  evening  at  the  end -of  that  time,  we  again 
heard  the  well-known  voice,  "  J  am  with  you  again !" 
we  hailed  his  return  with  joy. 

"*  At  the  times  the  voice  was  heard,  we  never  saw  any 
appearance;  but  one  evening  my  brother  said,  "  Gaspar, 
I  should  like  to  see  youj"  to  which  the  voice  replied, 
*^  You  shall  see  me.  I  will  n;eet  you  if  you  go  to  the 
fi^rthest  side  of  the  square."  He  went,  and  returned  pre- 
sently, saying,  "  J  have  seen  Gaspar.  He  w^as  in  a  large 
cloak,  with  a  broad-brimmed  hat.  I  looked  under  the 
hat,  and  he  smiled  upon  me."  "Yes,"  said  the  voice, 
/)ining  in,  "that  was  I." 

"*But  the  manner  of  his  final  departure  was  more 


*  The  italics  are  in  the  original  manuscnpt. 
2  E 


4ti6  GASPARES   DEPARTURE.      ' 

touching,  even,  than  his  kindness  while  he  stayed.  We 
returned  to  Suffolk;  and  there,  as  in  France,  for  several 
weeks  after  our  arrival,  Gaspar  continued  to  converse 
with  us,  as  usual.  One  day,  however,  he  said,  "I  am 
about  to  leave  you  altogether.  Harm  would  come  to 
y)u  if  I  were  to  be  with  you  here  in  this  country^ 
where  your  communications  with  me  would  be  misun- 
derstood and  misinterpreted." 

"*From  that  time,'  concluded  the  lady,  in  that  tone 
of  sadness  with  which  one  speaks  of  a  dear  friend  re- 
moved by  death, — ^from  that  time  to  this,  we  never 
heard  the  voice  of  Gaspar  again !' 

"  These  are  the  facts  as  I  had  them.  They  made  me 
think  J  and  they  may  make  your  readers  think.  Expla- 
nation or  opinion  I  pretend  not  to  add,  further  than  this: 
that  of  the  perfect  good  faith  of  the  narrator  I  entertain 
no  doubt  whatever.  In  attestation  of  the  story  as  she 
related  it,  I  affix  my  name. 

''S.C.Hall. 

"London,  June  25,  1869." 

What  are  we  to  think  of  a  narrative  coming  to  us  so 
directly  from  the  original  source,  and  told  in  so  straight- 
forward a  manner,  as  this  ?  What  hypothesis,  be  it  of 
trickery,  self-delusion,  or  hallucination,  will  serve  us  to 
set  it  aside?  One,  two,  a  dozen,  incidents,  running 
through  a  week  or  two,  might,  at  utmost  need,  be  ex- 
plained away,  as  the  result,  perhaps,  of  some  mystifica- 
tion,— possibly  of  some  mistake  of  the  senses.  But  a 
senes  of  phenomena  extending  throughout  three  years, 
witnessed,  long  before  the  era  of  Spiritualism,  in  the 
quiet  of  domestic  privacy,  by  every  member  of  an  en- 
lightened family,  observed,  too,  without  the  slightest 
terror  to  mislead,  or  excitement  to  disqualify  as  witness, 
making,  day  after  day,  on  all  the  witnesses,  the  same 
impression, — upon  what  rational  plea,  short  of  suspicion 


THE   ALTERNATIVi.  467 

of  willful  deception,  can  we  set  aside,  as  untrastworthy, 
ftiich  observations  as  these? 

I  seek  in  vain  any  middle  ground.  Either  an  oral 
communication,  apparently  from  an  ultramundane 
Source,  is  possible;  or  else  a  cultivated  and  intelligent 
family,  of  high  standing  and  unimpeached  honor,  com- 
bined to  palm  upon  their  friends  a  stark  lie.  Not  the 
narrator  alone:  her  father,  mother,  brother,  sister,  must 
all  have  been  parties  to  a  gross  and  motiveless  falsehood, 
persisted  in  through  a  lifetime;  nay,  a  falsehood  not 
tnotiveless  only,  but  of  certain  and  evident  injury  in  a 
worldly  sense.  For  such  a  story,  as  every  one  knows, 
cannot,  in  the  present  prejudiced  state  of  public  opinion, 
be  told  (let  the  narrator  be  ever  so  highly  respected) 
without  risk  of  painful  comment  and  injurious  surmise. 

On  the  other  hand,  that  a  disembodied  spirit  should 
6peak  to  mortal  ears,  is  one  of  those  ultramundane  phe- 
nomena, alleged  in  several  of  the  preceding  narratives, 
which  the  reader  may  have  found  it  the  most  difficult 
to  credit  or  conceive. 

But  my  task  as  a  compiler  draws  near  its  termination. 
I  must  set  a  limit  to  the  number  of  my  narrative-proofs, 
or  else  depart  from  the  rule  I  have  laid  down  to  myself, 
to  study  brevity,  and  to  place  these  proofs,  so  far  as  I 
may,  within  the  reach  of  all,  by  restricting  this  treatise 
to  the  limits  of  a  single  duodecimo  volume.  With  one  ad- 
ditional narrative,  therefore,  out  of  a  multitude  that  re- 
main on  my  hands,  I  here,  for  the  present,  close  the  list. 

THE  EEJECTED  SUITOR. 

In  a  beautifVil  country  residence,  at  no  great  distance 
from  London,  in  one  of  the  prettiest  portions  of  Eng- 
land, live  a  gentleman  and  his  wife,  whom  I  shall  desig- 
nate as  Mr.  and  Mrs.  W.  They  have  been  married  six- 
teen years,  but  have  no  children. 


4'j>  A  SPONTANEOUS   IMPULSE. 

Four  or  five  years  ago,  there  carae  to  reside  with  tliem 
a  friend  of  the  family,  an  aged  gentleman  who  had 
already  passed  his  eightieth  year,  and  whose  declining 
strength  and  increasing  infirmities  gradually  demanded 
more  and  more  constant  care.  Mrs.  W.  tended  him  with 
the  anxious  affection  of  a  daughter;  and  when,  after 
some  four  years,  he  died,  she  mourned  him  as  if  she  had 
indeed  lost  a  father.  Her  sorrow  for  his  loss  was  the 
deeper  because  of  that  beautiful  characteristic  of  her 
sex,  which  causes  a  true-hearted  woman  to  lament  most 
the  feeble  child,  or  the  aged  sufferer,  whose  helplessness 
has  seemed  to  cast  them  upon  her  as  a  constant  burden, 
but  whom  that  very  dependence  has  so  endeared  to  her, 
that,  when  death  takes  from  her  the  object  of  her  care, 
she  feels  rather  a  blank  in  her  existence  than  a  release 
from  daily  toil  or  nightly  watch. 

In  such  a  frame  of  mind  as  this,  and  feeling  more  than 
usually  depressed,  Mrs.  "W.  went  one  morning,  not  long 
after  her  old  friend's  death,  into  her  garden,  in  search 
of  some  distraction  from  the  grief  that  oppressed  her. 
She  had  been  there  but  a  few  minutes,  when  she  felt  a 
strong  impulse  to  return  to  the  house  and  write. 

It  ought  here  to  be  stated  that  Mrs.  W.  is  not,  nor  ever 
has  been,  what,  in  modern  phrase,  is  called  a  Spiritualist. 
Indeed,  what  she  had  heard  of  Spiritualism  years  before 
had  caused  her  to  regard  it  as  a  mischievous  delusion; 
and  though,  later,  she  had  begun  somewhat  to  doubt  how 
far  she  might  have  been  unjustly  prejudiced,  she  had 
never  sat  at  a  table,  nor  otherwise  evoked  Spiritual  phe- 
nomena; it  cannot  be  regarded  as  such  that  on  one  or 
two  occasions  she  had  sat  down,  out  of  curiosity,  to  see 
if  her  hand  would  write  automatically;  a  few  unintelli- 
gible figures  or  unimportant  words  having  been  the  only 
result. 

On  the  present  occasion,  however,  the  impulse  to 
write,  gradually  increasing,  and  attended  with  a  nervous 


WRITING   BACKWARD.  469 

and  uneasy  sensation  in  the  right  arm,  became  so  strong 
that  she  yielded  to  it;  and,  returning  to  the  house  and 
picking  up  a  sheet  of  note-paper  and  a  small  portulio, 
she  sat  down  on  the  steps  of  the  front  door,  put  the 
portfolio  on  her  knee,  with  the  sheet  of  note-paper 
across  it,  and  placed  her  hand,  with  a  pencil,  at  the  upper 
left-hand  corner,  as  one  usually  begins  to  write.  After  a 
time  the  hand  was  gradually  drawn  to  the  lower  right- 
hand  corner,  and  began  to  write  backward;  completing 
the  first  line  near  the  left-hand  edge  of  the  sheet,  then 
commencing  a  second  line,  and  finally  a  third,  both  on 
the  right,  and  completing  the  writing  near  to  where 
she  had  first  put  down  her  pencil.  Not  only  was  the 
last  letter  in  the  sentence  written  first,  and  so  on  until 
the  commencing  letter  was  written  last,  but  each  sepa- 
rate letter  was  written  backward,  or  inversely;  the 
pencil  going  over  the  lines  which  composed  each  letter 
from  right  to  left. 

Mrs.  W.  stated  to  me  that  (as  may  well  be  conceived) 
she  had  not  the  slightest  perception  of  what  her 
hand  was  writing:  no  idea  passing  through  her  mind  at 
the  time.  When  her  hand  stopped,  she  read  the  sen- 
tence as  she  would  have  read  what  any  other  person 
had  written  for  her.  The  handwriting  was  cramped 
and  awkward,  but,  as  the  fac-simile  will  show,*  legible 
enough.     The  sentence  read  thus : — 

"  Ye  are  sorrowing  as  one  without  hope.  Cast  thy  burden 
upon  Godj  and  he  will  help  thee.'' 

*  See  Plate  I.  It  would  seem  that  it  ought  to  have  read,  "Thou  art  tor- 
rowing,"  Ac.  If  I  am  asked  whence  this  error  in  the  grammatical  con- 
struction of  the  sentence,  I  reply  that  I  can  no  more  account  for  it  than  I 
can  for  the  writing  itself.  No  one  could  write  more  correctly  or  gram- 
matically than  does  Mrs.  W.  It  was  not  through  her,  therefore,  as  in 
the  case  of  an  illiterate  scribe  we  might  have  imagined  it,  that  the  erro* 
occurred.  Its  occurrence  is  additional  proof  that  her  mind  had  no  agency 
in  the  matter ;  though  it  would  probably  be  stretchiug  conjecture  too  far  ic 
imagine  that  it  was  so  intended. 


4Y0  IS   THIS    AN   EXAMPLE 

Mrs.  W.  afterward  said  to  me  that  if  an  angel  fron: 
heaven  had  suddenly  appeared  to  her  and  pronounced 
these  words,  her  astonishment  could  scarcely  have 
exceeded  that  with  which  she  first  read  them.  She 
felt  awe-stricken,  as  if  in  the  presence  of  some  superior 
power.  She  sat  long  in  silent  contemplation.  Then 
she  perused,  again  and  again,  the  sentence  before  her, 
half  doubting,  the  while,  the  evidence  of  her  own  senses. 
After  a  time  she  again  took  pencil  in  hand,  and  tried 
to  write  something  backward.  But  the  simplest  word, 
of  three  or  four  letters,  was  too  much  for  her.  She 
puzzled  over  it  without  being  able  to  trace  it  backward, 
80  as  to  be  legible  when  done. 

Then  the  question  arose  in  her  mind,  "  Whence  is 
this  ?     Who  caused  me  to  write  that  sentence  ?" 

Her  thoughts  involuntarily  reverted  to  the  aged  friend 
whom  she  had  just  lost.  Could  his  spirit,  from  its  home 
in  another  world,  have  dictated  those  words  of  consola- 
tion ?  Could  he  have  been  permitted  to  guide  her  hand 
80  that  she  might  thus  receive  assurance  that  he  sympa- 
thized with  her  sorrow  and  took  thought  how  he  might 
relieve  it  ? 

That  was  the  conclusion  to  which  she  finally  inclined. 
Yet,  desiring  further  assurance,  she  silently  prayed 
that  the  spirit  which  had  written  this  sentence  through 
her  hand  might  also  be  allowed,  through  the  same 
medium,  to  subscribe  its  name.  And  then  she  placed 
her  pencil  at  the  foot  of  the  paper,  confidently  expect- 
ing that  the  name  of  the  friend  whom  she  had  lost  would 
be  written  there. 

The  event,  however,  wholly  behed  her  expectation. 
The  pencil,  again  drawn  nearly  to  the  right-hand  edge  of 
the  paper,  wrote,  backward  as  before,  not  the  expected 
name,  but  the  initials  K.  G.  D. 

Mrs.  W.,  as  she  read  them,  felt  herself  shudder  and 
turn  pale.     The  grave  seemed   giving  forth   its  dead 


r 
CI 


OP   SPIRITUAL  OtAtlDIANSHIP?  471 

The  initials  were  those  of  a  young  man  who,  eighteen 
years  before,  had  sought  her  in  marriage,  but  whom, 
though  she  had  long  known  and  highly  esteemed  him, 
she  had  rejected, — not  experiencing  for  him  any  senti- 
ment warmer  than  friendship,  and  perhaps  having 
other  preferences.  He  had  received  her  refusal  without 
complaint  or  expostulation.  "You  never  gave  mo 
reason  to  expect,"  he  said,  gently,  "that  I  should  be  ac- 
cepted. But  I  was  resolved  to  know  my  fate;  for  I 
could  endure  suspense  no  longer.  I  thank  you  for 
having  dealt  so  candidly  with  me.  I  see  now  that  you 
can  never  be  my  wife;  but  no  one  else  ever  shall  be.  So 
much,  at  least,  is  within  my  power." 

And  with  that  he  had  left  her.  Twelve  years  after- 
ward he  died,  a  bachelor.  When  Mrs.  W.  had  first 
heard  of  his  death,  she  had  felt  a  momentary  pang,  as 
the  thought  arose  that  she  perhaps,  in  crossing  his  life's 
path,  had  darkened  and  made  solitary  his  existence. 
But,  as  she  had  nothing  with  which  to  reproach  herself 
in  the  matter,  and  as  she  had  never  felt  for  him  more 
than  for  any  other  deserving  friend,  she  soon  ceased  to 
think  of  him;  and  she  solemnly  assured  me  that  she 
could  not  call  to  mind  that  his  name,  even,  had  recurred 
to  her  remembrance,  for  several  years,  until  the  moment 
when  it  was  thus  suddenly  and  unexpectedly  called  up. 

This  occurred  on  the  afternoon  of  Tuesday,  March  1, 
1859.  A  little  more  than  a  month  afterward,  to  wit,  on 
Monday,  April  4,  about  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon, 
while  Mrs.  W.  was  sitting  in  her  parlor,  reading,  she 
suddenly  heard,  apparently  coming  from  a  small  side- 
table  near  her,  three  distinct  raps.  She  listened;  and 
again  there  came  the  same  sounds.  Still  uncertain 
whether  it  might  not  be  some  accidental  knocking,  she 
said,  "  If  it  be  a  spirit  who  announces  himself,  will  he 
repeat  the  sound?"  Whereupon  the  sounds  were  in. 
stantly  and  still   more  distinctly  repeated;   and  Mrs. 


472  I'HE    NEWFOUNDLAND   DOG. 

W.  became  assured  that  they  proceeded  from  the  side- 
table. 

She  then  oaid,  "  If  I  take  pencil  and  paper,  can  I  be 
informed  who  it  is?"  Immediately  there  were  three 
raps,  as  of  assent;  and  when  she  sat  down  to  write,  her 
hand,  writing  backward,  formed  the  same  initials  as 
before,— E.  G.  D. 

Then  she  questioned,  "  For  what  purpose  were  these 
sounds  V  To  which  the  reply,  again  written  backward, 
was,  "  To  show  you  that  we  are  thinking  and  working  for 
you.'"^ 

Nor  was  this  all.  Ten  days  after  the  last  incident, 
namely,  on  Thursday  afternoon,  April  14,  Mrs.  W., 
happening  to  call  to  mind  that  R.  G-.  D.  had  once  pre- 
sented to  her  a  beautiful  black  Newfoundland  dog, 
thought  within  herself,  "How  much  I  should  like  to 
have  just  such  an  animal  now !"  And,  one  of  her  ser- 
vants happening  to  be  near  at  the  time,  she  said  to  her, 
"I  wish  I  had  a  fine  large  Newfoundland  for  a  walking- 
companion." 

The  next  morning,  after  breakfast,  a  gentleman  was 
announced.  He  proved  to  be  an  entire  stranger,  whom 
Mrs.  W.  did  not  remember  to  have  ever  seen  before. 
He  was  a  surveyor,  from  a  neighboring  town,  and  led 
with  him  a  noble  black  Newfoundland,  as  high  as  the 
table.  After  apologizing  for  his  intrusion,  he  said  ho 
had  taken  the  liberty  to  call,  in  order  to  ask  Mrs. 
W.'s  acceptance  of  the  dog  he  had  brought  with  him. 
"You  could  not  have  offered  me  a  more  acceptable 
gift,"  said  Mrs.  W. ;  "  but  will  you  allow  me  to  ask 
what  induced  you  to  think  of  bringing  him  to  me  ?" 
"  I  brought  him,"  he  said,  "  because  I  do  not  intend,  for 
the  future,  to  keep  dogs,  and  because  I  felt  assured  that 
in  you  he  would  find  a  kind  mistress." 

Mrs.  W.  informed  me  that  she  hid   ascertained,  tQ 

*•  For  fac-simile,  see  Plate  II. 


^ 

^ 


t3 
to 


REMARKS   ON    THE    FOREGOING.  473 

an  absolute  certainty,  that  the  girl  to  whom  she  had  spoken 
on  the  matter  had  not  mentioned  to  an}''  one  her  wish 
to  have  a  dog,  and,  indeed,  that  the  casual  remark  had 
passed  from  the  girl's  mind  and  she  had  never  thought 
of  it  again.  A  few  hours  only,  it  will  be  observed,  in- 
tervened between  the  expression  of  the  wish  and  the 
offer  of  the  animal. 

Those  who  are  as  well  acquainted  with  Mrs.  W.  as 
1  am  know  that  uprightness  and  conscientiousness  are 
marked  traits  in  her  character,  and  that  the  above  in- 
cidents may  be  confidently  relied  on  as  the  exact  truth. 
I  had  them  direct  from  Mrs.  W.  herself,  a  few  days 
after  they  occurred ;  and  that  lady  kindly  ceded  to  me 
the  original  manuscript  of  the  two  communications 

The  circumstances,  taken  in  connection,  are,  of  their 
kind,  among  the  most  extraordinary  with  which  I  am 
acquainted.  And  to  the  candid  reader  it  will  not  be 
matter  of  surprise  to  learn  that  Mrs.  W.,  until  then 
a  skeptic  in  the  reality  of  any  direct  agencies  from 
another  world,  should  have  confessed  to  me  that  her 
doubts  were  removed,  that  she  felt  comforted  and 
tranquilized,  and  that  she  accepted  the  indications 
thus  vouchsafed  to  her,  unsought,  unlocked  for,  as 
sufficient  assurance  that  she  was,  in  a  measure,  under 
spiritual  protection, — thought  of,  cared  for,  even  from 
beyond  the  tomb. 

Before  we  decide  that  a  faith  so  consolatory  is  un- 
founded, we  shall  do  well  to  review  the  facts  of  this  case. 

Whence  the  sudden  impulse  in  the  garden  ?  People 
are  not  in  the  habit  of  imagining  that  they  desire  to 
write,  unless  they  have  something  to  say.  Mrs.  W. 
was  not  a  Spiritualist,  nor  residing  among  Spiritualists : 
so  that  no  epidemic  agency  can  be  urged  in  explanation, 
even  if  such  a  suggestion  have  weight.  The  phenomonon 
which  presented  itself  was  strictly  spontaneous. 

40* 


474  WHAT   INTELLIGENCE   WAS   IT? 

Whence,  again,  the  writing  backward?  In  that  the 
will  had  no  agency.  As  little  had  expectation.  Mrs. 
W.,  in  her  normal  state,  had  not  the  power  so  to 
write.  By  diligent  practice  she  might,  doubtless,  have 
acquired  it.  But  she  had  no  such  practice.  She  had 
not  acquired  it.  And,  not  having  acquired  it,  it  was  as 
much  a  physical  impossibility  for  her,  of  herself,  so  to 
write,  as  for  a  man,  picking  up  a  violin  for  the  first 
time,  to  execute  thereon,  at  sight,  some  elaborate  passage 
from  Hai  lei  or  Beethoven. 

Again,  whence  the  intention  to  write  after  so  unex- 
ampled  and  impracticable  a  manner?  Where  there 
is  an  intention  there  must  be  an  intelligence.  It  was 
not  Mrs.  W.  who  intended;  for  the  result  struck  her  with 
awe, — almost  with  consternation.  It  was  not  her  intelli- 
gence, therefore,  that  acted.     What  intelligence  was  it  ? 

Nor  can  we  reasonably  doubt  what  the  intention  was. 
Had  Mrs.  W.'s  hand  written  forward,  she  would,  in  all 
probability,  have  remained  in  uncertainty  whether,  half 
unconsciously  perhaps,  the  words  were  not  of  her  own 
dictation.  The  expedient  of  the  backward  writing  pre- 
cluded any  such  supposition ;  for  she  could  not  of  her- 
self do  unconsciously  a  thing  which  she  could  not  do  at 
all.  And  this  expedient  seems  to  have  been  ingeniously 
devised  to  cut  off  any  supposition  of  the  kind.  Then 
here  we  have  the  invention  of  an  expedient,  the  display 
of  ingenuity.  But  who  is  the  inventor  ?  Who  displays 
the  ingenuity?  I  confess  my  inability  to  answer  these 
questions. 

♦The  incident  of  the  dog,  if  it  stood  alone,  would  be 
less  remarkable.  A  thing  may  happen  when  there  are 
ten  thousand  chances  to  one  against  it.  A  lady  might 
to-day  express  a  wish  for  a  Newfoundland  dog,  and  a 
perfect  stranger,  who  knew  nothing  of  that  wish,  might 
to-morrow  offer  her  one.  And  all  this  might  occur,  as 
we  usually  say,  by  chance.     But  in  the  case  before  vs 


A   QUESTION   TO   BE    MET.  475 

there  are  the  attendant  circumstances  to  he  taken  into 
account.  R.  G.  D.  had,  in  former  days,  given  Mrs.  W, 
just  such  a  dog.  She  had  been  thinking  of  him  and  of 
his  gift.  She  had  been  told,  ten  days  before,  through 
some  agency  which  she  had  found  it  impossible  to  inter- 
pret as  mundane,  that  he  was  thinking  and  working  for 
her.  Was  she  superstitious  when  she  said  to  me,  as  she 
did,  that  "nothing  could  convince  her  tnat  a  spirit  did 
not  influence  the  owner  of  the  dog  to  bring  it  to  her''  ? 

I  think  her  conclusion,  under  the  circumstances,  was 
a  natural  one.  I  believe  that  few  having  the  same  per- 
sonal experience  as  had  Mrs.  W.  would  have  resisted  it. 
Was  it  reasonable,  as  well  as  natural  ?  It  is  difficult  to 
say  why  it  was  not,  unless  we  assume  it  beyond  question 
as  a  thing  impossible  that  a  departed  spirit  should  com- 
municate with  a  living  person,  should  read  a  living  per- 
son's thoughts,  should  influence  a  living  person's  actions. 

But  it  is  clearly  a  waste  of  time  to  examine  a  question 
at  all  which  we  have  resolved  in  advance  to  decide  in 
the  negative. 

And,  if  we  have  not  so  resolved,  shall  we  nOt  do  well 
fairly  to  meet  the  questions  which  this  and  the  preceding 
narratives  suggest?  If  outside  of  this  material  ex- 
istence there  be  occasionally  exercised  a  guardian  thought 
for  the  welfare  of  men ;  if,  sometimes,  comfort  may  reach 
us,  and  agencies  may  work  for  us,  coming  over  from  that 
world  to  which  we  are  all  fast  hastening;  if  there  be  an 
earthly  love  that  is  stronger  than  death  j  are  these  influ- 
ences, if  actual  influences  they  be,  so  undesirable  in 
themselves,  fraught  with  so  little  of  consolation,  so  in- 
capable of  cheering  a  drooping  soul,  so  powerless  to 
sustain  a  sinking  spirit,  so  impotent  to  vivify  the  faith 
in  a  Hereafter,  that  we  may  properly  repulse  them, 
at  the  threshold,  as  graceless  aberrations,  or  put  them 
aside,  unscrutinized,  as  unholy  or  incredible  ? 


BOOKVL 

THE   SUGGESTED   RESULTS. 
CHAPTEE  I. 

THE   CHANGE   AT   DEATH. 
"  Natura  non  fecit  saltum." — Linnaeus. 

It  suffices  not  that  a  theory  be  supported  by  a  strong 
aiTay  of  proofs.  To  merit  grave  notice  or  challenge 
rational  belief,  it  must  not  involve  results  in  themselves 
absurd. 

But  how  stands  the  case  in  regard  to  the  theory  for 
which,  in  the  preceding  pages,  I  have  been  adducing 
evidence  ? — the  hypothesis,  namely,  that  when  the  spirit 
of  man,  disengaged  from  the  body,  passes  to  another 
state  of  existence,  its  thoughts  and  affections  may  still 
revert  to  earth;  and  that,  in  point  of  fact,  it  does  occa- 
sionally make  itself  perceptible  to  the  living,  whether  in 
dream  or  in  the  light  of  day, — sometimes  to  the  sense  of 
sight,  sometimes  to  that  of  hearing  or  of  touch,  some- 
times by  an  impression  which  we  detect  in  its  effect 
but  cannot  trace  to  its  origin ;  these  various  spiritual 
agencies  wearing  in  this  instance  a  frivolous,  in  that 
a  solemn,  aspect,  now  assuming  the  form  of  petty  annoy- 
ance, now  of  grave  retribution,  but  more  frequently 
brightening  into  indications  of  gentle  ministry  and 
loving  guardianship. 

If  these  things  cannot  be  admitted  without  giving 
entrance  in  their  train  to  inferences  clearly  absurd,  it 

476 


WHENCE   CAN    THE   DEAD    RETURN?  477 

avails  little  how  great  a  weight  of  evidence  may  have 
been  brought  to  bear  in  their  favor :  the  decision  must 
be  against  them  at  last. 

So  thought  De  Foe.*  A  disciple  of  Luther,  and  sharing 
his  aversions,  he  rejected,  with  that  sturdy  reformer, 
not  only  the  Purgatory  of  Komish  theology,  but  the  idea 
of  any  future  state  mediate  between  heaven  and  hell. 
Therefore,  he  argued,  the  dead  cannot  return.  From 
heaven  they  cannot :  who  can  imagine  the  beatitude  of 
the  eternally  blessed  rudely  violated  for  purpose  so 
trivial  ?  And  for  the  damned  in  hell,  how  shall  we  sup- 
pose for  them  leisure  or  permission  to  leave,  on  earthly 
errand,  a  prison-house  of  which  the  gates  are  closed  on 
them  forever  ? 

The  premises  conceded,  these  conclusions  fairly  follow. 
The  dead  cannot  reasonably  be  imagined  to  return  either 
from  heaven  or  from  hell.  Then,  if  there  be  no  mediate 
state  after  death,  the  theory  of  spiritual  appearance  or 
agency  upon  earth,  by  those  who  have  gone  before  us, 
is  inadmissible. 

This  must  be  conceded  the  rather  because  the  occa- 
sions of  alleged  return  are  sometimes  of  very  slight 
moment.  A  servant-girl  is  attracted  to  earth  by  the 
letters  and  the  portrait  of  her  lover.  The  proprietors  of 
an  old  house  return  to  lament  over  its  decay  and  grieve 
for  its  change  of  ownership.  A  father  appears  to  his 
son  to  prevent  him  from  unnecessarily  disbursing  a  few 
pounds.  A  poor-camp  follower,  at  death,  has  left  un- 
satisfied a  debt  scantly  reaching  a  dollar,  and  to  effect 
the  repayment  of  that  pittance  her  spirit  forsakes,  night 
after  night,  its  eternal  abode ! 

Here  we  come  upon  another  necessary  inference. 
If  these  stories  be  true,  the  recently-departed  spirit 
must  retain,  for  a  longer  or  shorter  period,  not  only 


*  See  page  428. 


478  TWO    POSTULATES   INVOLVED. 

its  general  habits  of  thought  and  motives  of  action,  but 
even  its  petty  peculiarities  and  favorite  predilections. 
There  must  be  no  sudden  change  of  individuality  at  the 
moment  of  death,  either  for  the  better  or  for  the  worse. 
Men  will  awake  in  another  Hfe,  the  body  indeed  left 
behind,  and,  with  it,  its  corporeal  instincts,  its  physical 
infirmities;  yet  each  will  awake  the  same  individual, 
morally,  socially,  intellectually,  as  when  on  his  earthly 
death-bed  he  lay  down  to  rest. 

In  all  this  there  is  nothing  tending  to  affect,  either 
affirmatively  or  negatively,  the  doctrine  of  a  final  Day 
of  Judgment.  My  argument  but  regards  the  state  of 
the  soul  at  the  time  of  its  emancipation  by  death,  and 
for  a  certain  period  thereafter. 

But  so  far  it  evidently  does  go.  It  is  idle  to  deny  it. 
The  theory  that  departed  friends  may  revisit  us,  and 
watch  over  us  here,  clearly  involves  two  postulates : — 

Firsts  that,  when  death  prostrates  the  body,  the  spirit 
remains  not,  slumbering  in  the  grave,  beside  moldering 
flesh  and  bone,  but  enters  at  once  upon  a  new  and 
active  phase  of  life ;  not  a  state  of  ineffable  bliss,  nor 
yet  of  hopeless  misery,  but  a  condition  in  which  cares 
may  affect,  and  duties  may  engage,  and  sympathies  may 
enlist,  its  feelings  and  its  thoughts. 

Secondly,  that  the  death-change  reaches  the  body  only, 
not  the  heart  or  the  mind;  discarding  the  one,  not 
transforming  the  others. 

In  other  words,  Death  destroys  not,  in  any  sense, 
either  the  life  or  the  identity  of  man.  Nor  does  it  per- 
mit the  spirit,  an  angel  suddenly  become  immaculate, 
to  aspire  at  once  to  heaven.  Far  less  does  it  condemn 
that  spirit,  a  demon  instantly  debased,  to  sink  incon 
tinently  to  hell. 

All  this  may  sound  heterodox.  The  more  important 
inquirj'^  is,  whether  it  be  irrational.  Nor  was  it  hetero- 
dox, but  most  strictly  canonical,  until  many  centuries 


HADE?   SWEPT   OUT.  479 

had  intervened  between  the  teachings  of  Christ  and  the 
creeds  of  his  followers.  If  we  adopt  it  now,  we  may  be 
running  counter  to  the  preponderating  sentiment  of 
modern  Protestantism,  but  we  are  returning  to  the 
faith,  universally  confessed,  of  primitive  Christianity.* 
I  do  not  state  this  as  an  argument  for  its  truth,  but 
only  as  a  reminder  of  its  lineage. 

Luther  was  a  man  to  be  praised  and  admired, — 
courageous,  free-thoughted,  iron-willed, — a  man  for  his 
time  and  his  task.  But  Luther,  like  other  men,  had 
his  sins  and  his  errors  to  answer  for.  Every  thing  about 
him  was  strong,  his  prejudices  included.  When  his  will 
reacted  against  deep-rooted  opposition,  the  power  of  its 
stubborn  spring  sometimes  carried  him  beyond  truth 
and  reason.  He  always  plied  his  reforming  besom  with 
gigantic  effect,  not  always  with  deliberate  consideration. 
He  found  Purgatory  an  abuse;  and,  to  make  radical 
work,  he  swept  out  Hades  along  with  it.f 

*  "  Thus  the  matter  stands  historically.  In  the  last  qnarter  of  the  second 
century,  when  the  Christian  churches  emerge  clearly  into  the  light,  we  find 
them  universally  in  possession  of  the  idea  of  a  mediate  place  of  souls, — one 
which  was  neither  heaven  nor  hell,  but  preliminary  to  either.  It  was  not 
an  idea  broached  by  heretics  here  and  there.  It  was  the  belief  of  the  Church 
universal,  which  nobody  called  in  question." — "Foregleamt  of  Immortality,** 
by  Edward  H.  Sears,  4th  edition,  Boston,  published  by  the  American  Uni- 
tarian Association,  1858,  p.  268. 

Unable,  for  lack  of  space,  to  enter  on  the  historical  evidences  for  the 
above,  I  refer  the  reader  to  Mr.  Sears's  work,  where  he  will  find  these 
succinctly  set  forth.  Also  to  "  The  Belief  of  the  First  Three  Centuries  con- 
eeming  Christ's  Mission  to  the  Under- World,"  by  Frederick  Huidekoper, 
where  he  may  read  the  following  passage,  with  numerous  quotations  from 
the  Fathers  in  attestation  : — "  It  can  scarcely  be  that,  at  the  opening  of  the 
second  century,  or  the  close  of  the  first,  the  doctrine  of  Christ's  under-world 
mission,  so  far,  at  least,  as  regards  the  preaching  to,  and  liberation  of, 
the  departed,  was  not  a  widely.spread  and  deeply-seated  opinion  among 
Christians."  .  .  .  ''  On  the  essential  features  of  this  doctrine  the  Catholics 
and  heretics  were  of  one  mind.  It  was  a  point  too  settled  to  admit  dis- 
pute."— p.  138,  quoted  by  Sears,  p.  262. 

f  A  more  scrupulous  man  would  have  been  arrested  by  the  eonsideratioi 


4S0  WHAT    BECOMES    OF    THE    SOUL 

It  is  a  question  of  infinite  importance  whether,  in  out- 
rooting  the  faith  of  preceding  ages,*  he  committed  not 
only  a  grave  error  in  fact,  but  also  a  grievous  mischief 
in  practice. 

When  the  great  Eeformer  denied  a  mediate  state  after 
death,  the  denial  involved  a  hypothesis  of  an  extraordi- 


♦hat  Peter,  who  must  have  known  his  Master's  views  on  the  subject,  speaks 
of  the  gospel  being  communicated  to  the  dead,  and  of  Christ  himself  preach- 
ing even  to  the  spirits  of  those  who  perished  in  the  Deluge.  (1  Peter  iiL 
19,  20,  and  iv.  6.)  But  where,  except  in  Hades,  could  this  have  hap- 
pened ? 

If  it  be  objected  that  the  word  Hadea  does  not  even  occur  in  the  New 
Testament,  the  reply  is,  that  Luther — whom  our  English  translators  fol- 
lowed— unceremoniously  shut  it  out.  He  caused  the  two  words  Gehenna 
and  Hades  to  be  equally  rendered  Hell.  "Yet,"  (I  quote  from  Sears,)  "as 
Dr.  Campbell  has  shown  conclusively  in  his  admirable  and  luminous  essay, 
those  two  words  have  not  the  same  meaning;  and  only  the  former  answers 
to  the  modern  and  Christian  idea  of  hell.  The  word  Hades,  occurring 
eleven  times  in  the  New  Testament,  never  answers  to  that  idea,  and  never 
ought  to  have  been  so  rendered." —  Work  cited,  p.  277. 

Tf  it  be  further  argued  that,  at  least,  there  is  in  Scripture  no  deliberate 
expounding  of  this  doctrine  of  Hades,  the  reply  is,  thaj;  an  item  of  faith  uni- 
Tersn.lly  admitted  as  beyond  question  by  Jew  as  well  as  Christian  was  not 
likely  to  be  unnecessarily  elaborated,  but  only  incidentally  adverted  to. 

*  The  Greeks  had  their  Hades ;  though,  with  a  Chinese  reverence  for  the 
rites  of  sepulture,  they  conceived  it  to  be  filled  chiefly  by  the  restless  and 
wandering  shades  of  those  whose  bones  lay  exposed,  neglected  and  for- 
gotten ;  and  if  at  last  funeral  honors  were  paid  to  appease  the  soul,  its  re- 
ward was  not  heaven,  but  eternal  rest.  Nor  do  they  appear  to  have  had 
the  idea  of  spiritual  guardians'hip,  except  as  exerted  by  the  gods.  The 
Trojan  hero  does  not  anticipate  any  return  from  Pluto's  realm  to  watoh 
over  the  spouse  he  loved,  but  rather  an  eternal  separation  : — 

"  Thy  Hector,  wrapped  in  everlasting  sleep, 
Shall  neither  hear  thee  sigh  nor  see  thee  weep." 

The  Sheol  of  the  Jews — at  least,  according  to  the  later  Rabbins — had 
three  regions:  an  upper  sphere,  of  comparative  happiness,  where  were  the 
patriarchs,  prophets,  and  others  worthy  to  be  their  associates ;  a  second, 
lower  region,  dull  and  dark,  the  temporary  abode  of  the  wicked ;  and, 
lowest  of  all,  Gehenna,  untenanted  now,  and  to  remain  empty  until  the  Day 
«f  Judgment  shall  have  sent  the  oond«mned  to  occupy  it 


IMMEDIATELY   AFTER  DEATH?  481 

nary  character.  Since  without  Hades  there  can  be 
neither  hope  nor  reform  nor  preparation  beyond  the 
grave,  we  are  compelled  to  suppose,  in  the  case  of  man, 
what  Linnaeus  says  is  not  to  be  found  in  the  entire 
economy  of  Nature, — a  sudden  leap,  as  it  were,  across  a 
great  chasm, — a  transforming  change  as  instantaneous  as 
it  is  complete.  We  arc  compelled  to  imagine  that  this 
change  is  preceded  by  no  gradual  progress  nor  effected 
by  any  human  exertion. 

According  to  the  varying  notions  of  the  believers  in 
this  abrupt  metamorphosis,  it  may  occur  at  the  moment 
of  dissolution,  or  else  at  some  epoch  indefinitely  distant. 
A  portion  of  Luther's  followers,  embarrassed  to  dispose 
of  the  human  soul  in  the  interval  between  its  separation 
from  the  body  and  its  summons  at  some  remote  period 
by  the  last  trump,  partially  adopt,  in  their  difficulty,  the 
Grecian  doctrine  of  peaceful  rest.  According  to  them, 
the  soul,  overcome  by  Death,  like  any  mortal  thing, 
steeped  in  unconsciousness,  suffers  a  virtual  sepulture, 
a  suspension  of  sentient  existence,  a  species  of  tempo- 
rary annihilation,  to  endure.  He  alone  knows  how  long 
who  has  fixed  the  Day  of  Judgment.  Other  Lutherans, 
however,  shocked  at  this  approach  to  the  dictum  of  re- 
volutionary philosophy  promulgated  in  France's  Days 
of  Terror, — "Death  is  an  eternal  sleep," — seek  to  evade 
the  dilemma  by  supposing  that  there  is  no  great,  uni- 
versal, far-off  Day  of  Judgment  at  all,  but  that  the  day 
of  death  is  to  each  one  of  us  the  day  of  retribution  also; 
that  the  soul,  at  the  moment  of  emancipation,  ascends 
to  the  tribunal  of  God,  there  instantly  to  be  preferred  to 
heaven  or  consigned  to  hell. 

Under  either  hypothesis,  the  conception  of  a  sudden 
revolution  of  all  thought  and  feeling  is  clearly  involved. 
Man,  bright  though  his  virtues  be,  and  dark  his  sins,  is, 
while  he  remains  here,  neither  seraph  nor  demon. 
Among   all    our   associates,  be  they  valued   friends   or 

2F  41 


itZ  A    DOOM,    OR   A    STATE    OF   PROGRESS? 

mere  distant  acquaintances,  how  many,  even  of  the 
very  best,  are  suited  to  enter  heaven  ?  How  many,  even 
of  the  very  worst,  are  fit  only  for  hell  ?  What  an  over 
whelming  majority  are  far  too  imperfect  for  the  one, 
yet,  with  some  redeeming  virtue,  much  too  good  for  the 
other!  With  exceptions,  if  any,  altogether  too  rare  to 
invalidate  the  general  rule,  man  does  not  attain,  upon 
earth,  either  the  perfection  of  virtue  or  the  extremity 
of  degradation. 

But  what  fature  may  we  reasonably  expect  for  a  being 
80  constituted,  at  the  hands  of  a  God  throughout  whose 
works  no  principle  shines  out  more  luminously  than  that 
of  universal  adaptation  ?  A  final  doom,  or  a  further 
novitiate? — which  ? 

The  latter,  evidently,  unless  we  assume  that  the  adap- 
tation is  to  be  precipitated,  as  by  unexampled  miracle^ 
unless,  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  the  comparatively 
good  man  is  to  be  relieved,  without  effort  of  his,  of  all 
frailty  that  were  unworthy  of  celestial  membership, 
while  the  comparatively  wicked  man  is  to  be  shorn, 
equally  by  an  agency  which  he  controls  not,  of  every 
latent  spark  or  lingering  scruple  that  rates,  if  ever  so 
little,  above  the  infernal. 

Let  us  say  nothing  of  tHe  injustice  apparently  in- 
volved in  such  a  theory.  But  where  do  we  find,  in  a 
single  page  of  that  Great  Book  which  has  been  spread 
open  since  the  creation  of  the  world  to  all  God's 
rational  creatures,  one  indication,  even  the  most 
trifling,  that  sustains  by  the  probabilities  of  analogy 
the  theory  itself? 

Wo  find  every  portion  of  God's  handiwork  instinct 
with  the  principle  of  progression.  The  seed,  the  plant, 
the  blossom,  the  fruit, — these  are  the  types  of  Nature's 
gradual  workings.  All  change  is  a  harmonious,  con- 
nected succession. 

Gradual;  above  all,  are  the  influences  through  which. 


HOW    HUMAN   CHARACTER   18   FORMED.  48.^ 

under  God's  visible  economy,  man's  character  is  formed. 
The  constant  dropping  of  circumstance,  the  slow  hard- 
ening of  habit,  the  unfolding,  by  imperceptible  swell, 
of  the  affections,  the  enlistment,  one  by  one,  of  govern- 
ing motives,  the  tardy  expansion,  stretching  from 
infancy  to  ripe  manhood,  of  the  intellectual  powers, — 
these  are  the  means  at  work,  acting  so  silently,  modi- 
fying by  degrees  so  microscopically  minute,  that,  like 
the  motion  of  the  hour-hand  over  the  dial  of  a  small 
watch,  the  advance  escapes  our  perception.  We  detect, 
when  months  or  years  have  elapsed,  a  certain  space 
passed  over.  We  know  that  the  unbroken  chain  of  in- 
fluences has  stretched  on,  though  its  links  are  invisible 
to  mortal  eyes. 

Such  is  the  mode,  so  strictly  gradual,  so  constantly 
operating  through  the  intervention  of  slow-working 
agencies,  under  which  alone,  here  upon  earth,  man's 
character  is  influenced.  And  this  could  not  have  been 
otherwise  unless  man  had  been  created,  not  the  pro- 
gressive free  agent  he  is,  but  some  creature  essentially 
different. 

Nor  in  the  development  of  the  human  being,  such  as 
he  is,  do  we  find  that  God  ever  permits  Himself  (if  one 
may  so  speak)  to  depart  from  the  law  inherent  in  thd 
organization  and  attributes  of  the  creature  He  has 
made.  Progressively  and  mediately,  by  the  interven- 
tion of  motive  presented,  by  the  agency  of  will,  by  the 
influence  of  surroundings  physical  and  social, — thus, 
and  not  otherwise,  does  God  suffer  man  gradually  to 
become  what  circumstance,  daily  acting  on  a  constitu- 
tion like  his,  determines  that  he  shall  be.  Thus,  and 
uot  otherwise,  so  far  as  we  can  follow  him,  is  man 
taught  and  guided. 

At  last  this  progressive  being  reaches  a  point  at 
which  the  body,  that  during  its  earlier  vigor  seconded 
in  a  measure  the  promptings  of  its  immortal  associate, 


484  THE   POSTULATES   RATIONAL. 

faints  and  fails.  It  has  served  its  purpose,  like  an  aged, 
decaying  tree.  That  which  was  erewhile  felt  as  a  com- 
fort and  an  aid  becomes  a  burden  and  an  incumbrance. 
The  Immortal  has  outgrown  its  perishable  envelope. 
The  larva  drops  off.  The  unmasked  spirit  is  gone, 
beyond  our  ken. 

In  following— as  in  thought  we  may — its  invisible 
progress,  since  the  ablest  theologians  differ  in  their 
interpretation  of  authority,  what  earthly  guide  can  we 
follow  more  trustworthy  than  analogy?  Where  but  in 
the  rule  of  the  Past  can  we  find  reliable  indication 
touching  the  probable  rule  in  the  Future  ? 

The  conclusion  is  evident.  He  who  conducts  the  soul 
to  the  brink  of  the  Dark  Eiver  deserts  it  not  on  the 
hither  side.  Nor  is  that  river  the  boundary  of  His 
realm.  His  laws  operate  beyond.  But  these  laws,  so 
far  as  we  know  them,  exhibit  no  variableness  nor 
shadow  of  turning.  And  I  see  neither  reason  nor  like- 
lihood in  the  supposition  that  in  any  portion  of  crea- 
tion they  are  suspended  or  reversed.  I  see  neither 
reason  nor  likelihood  in  the  theory  that,  in  any  portion 
of  creation,  progress  and  exertion  will  fail  to  precede 
improvement,  or  that  man  will  ever  be  degraded  by 
agency  other  than  his  own. 

I  find  nothing  absurd  or  irrational,  therefore,  in  the 
postulates  which  the  theory  of  spiritual  interference 
involves.  On  the  contrary,  it  seems  to  me  probable 
enough  that  the  attention  of  men  may  have  been  espe- 
cially culled,  in  our  modern  day,  to  this  very  theory, 
in  order  to  correct  an  important  error,  and  thus  to  put 
an  end  to  the  mischief  which  that  error  may  have  occa- 
sioned. 

If  it  be  true  that  Hades  exists,  the  truth  is  an  im- 
portant one.  But  in  proportion  to  the  importance  of  a 
truth  denied  are  the  evil  consequences  likely  to  result 
from  the  denial. 


ENFEEBLING    EFFECT    OF    DISTANCE.  485 

Does  this  apply  in  the  instance  under  consideration? 
Do  grave  and  serious  evils  result  from  rejecting  the  doc- 
trine of  a  mediate  state  after  death  ? 

Man  i«  so  constituted  that  remote  inducements  act 
upon  him  with  feeble  force.  Experience  proves  that 
the  power  of  reward,  as  an  incentive,  is  in  the  inverse 
ratio  of  the  distance  at  which  it  is  set.  And  no  maxim 
In  jurisprudence  is  better  established  than  this:  that 
punishment,  to  be  effectual,  should  tread  close  on  the 
heels  of  the  offense. 

If,  then,  we  assume — as  mental  philosophers  are  w^ont 
to  do— that  a  belief  in  future  rewards  and  punishments 
is  a  chief  incentive  to  truth  and  virtue,  it  is  essential 
that  their  effect  should  not  be  enfeebled  by  remote- 
ness. 

But  this  is  precisely  what  Luther  did  in  his  eager 
desire  to  be  rid  of  Purgatory.  He  postponed  to  a  Day 
of  Judgment,  that  may  not  arrive  for  untold  ages,  the 
reward  and  the  punishment  of  earthly  deeds.  It  avails 
little  to  add  that  the  interval  was  to  be  passed  in 
unconscious  slumber,  and  to  be  told,  as  we  sometimes 
are,  that  a  thousand  years  of  dreamless  sleep  are  to 
the  sleeper  but  as  a  moment  of  time :  so  subtle  a  dis- 
tinction does  not  reach  the  feelings  nor  convince  the 
common  mind. 

"What  wonder,  then,  that  the  murderer  is  deterred 
by  the  fear  of  earthly  punishment,  uncertain  as  it  is, 
in  a  thousand  cases  in  which  the  dread  of  a  Day  of 
Judgment,  scarcely  discerned  in  the  illimitable  dis- 
tance, exerts  an  influence  too  feeble  to  an-est  his 
arm? 

What  wonder  that  the  self-indulgent  man  of  the 
world,  like  a  spoiled  child  whom  one  vainly  seeks  to 
tempt  from  some  injurious  pleasure  of  to-day  by  the 
promise  of  a  greater  pleasure  laid  up  for  to-moiTOW, 
recklessly  snatches  at   every  sensual  enjoyment   now' 


486  UNREASONABLE    EXPECTATIONS. 

undeterred  by  the  risk  of  losing  celestial  happiness 
commencing  he  knows  not  when? 

What  wonder  that  the  pulpit  ceaselessly  declaims 
against  man's  blindness  and  folly  in  preferring  the 
fleeting  joys  of  a  moment  to  the  bliss  of  life  ever- 
lasting, and  that  the  declamation  so  often  falls  on  dull 
ears  and  closed  hearts  ? 

When  the  philosopher  places  a  naagnet  beyond  the 
sphere  of  its  usual  action,  he  wonders  not  that  he  can 
no  longer  detect  ite  manifestations.  The  theologian, 
less  reasonable,  removes  to  a  distance,  rendered  endless 
by  the  dilating  effect  of  uncertainty,  all  that  at- 
tracts of  future  reward,  all  that  repels  of  future  punish- 
ment, and  still  expects  that  the  magnetic  agency  of  a 
Hereafter  will  retain  its  force  and  win  over  its  con- 
verts. 

My  argument,  it  may  be  objected,  does  not  apply  to 
those  who  believe  that  God  sits  in  perpetual  judgment, 
and  that  each  moment,  as  it  surrenders  its  victim,  wit- 
nesses also  his  doom. 

To  a  limited  extent  the  objection  is  valid,  but  to  a 
limited  extent  only.  A  separation  may  be  effected  by 
other  means  almost  as  completely  as  by  distance.  In 
the  parable,  thQ  gulf  between  Dives  and  Lazarus  is  not 
represented  as  of  vast  width  :  sight  across  it  is  pos- 
sible, question  is  put  and  answer  received;  yet  it  is 
spoken  of  as  impassable. 

But  have  we  not,  in  breaking  down  the  old  doctrine 
of  Hades, — the  spiritual  bridge  connecting  the  Here 
with  the  Hereafter, — left  open  a  great  gulf,  if  not  im- 
passable, yet  hard  for  mortal  conceptions  to  pass?  To 
human  feelings,  have  w^e  not  separated,  almost  as  effec- 
tually as  if  limitless  time  intervened,  the  existence  of 
man  on  earth  from  his  future  life  in  heaven? 

The  question  of  identity — that  theme  of  ancient 
sophists — is  a  difficult  one.     In  a  physical  sense,  a  man 


THE   QUESTION    OF   IDENTITY.  487 

IS  not,  strictly  speaking,  the  identical  individual  to-day 
that  he  was  yesterday  or  that  he  will  be  to-morrow. 
Nevertheless,  the  change  from  one  day  to  another  is 
usually  so  imperceptible  that  we  instinctively  conceive 
of  the  individual  as  the  same. 

But  if  the  changes  now  running  through  twenty 
years  were  condensed  into  a  single  night;  if  an  infant, 
such  as  he  appears  to  us  when  twelve  months  only  have 
elapsed  since  his  birth,  put  to  sleep  to-night,  were  to 
awake  to-morrow  morning  exactly  the  same,  in  mind 
and  body,  as  he  will  be  when  he  shall  have  attained  his 
majority,  he  would  be  for  us  not  the  same  individual, 
but  another.  The  case,  in  modified  form,  actually 
occurs.  We  part  with  an  infant  two  or  three  years 
old,  to  see  him  again  a  man  of  twentj^-five.  Theoreti- 
cally, we  regard  him  as  the  same  person ;  practically,  he 
is  a  new  acquaintance,  whom  we  never  met  before. 

There  is  this  difference,  however,  between  the  two 
cases.  In  the  latter,  the  absent  individual  has  retained, 
in  his  own  feelings,  his  identity,  though  we  have  lost  all 
perception  of  it.  In  the  former,  in  which  we  have 
supposed  the  transformation  effected  in  a  night,  the 
identity  would  be  lost  as  surely  to  the  person  trans- 
formed as  to  us,  the  witnesses  of  the  transformation. 

But  we  cannot  suppose  that  the  change  from  infancy 
to  manhood,  great  as  it  is,  can  for  a  moment  be  com- 
pared in  its  thoroughness  to  that  radical  transforma- 
tion which  alone  could  fit  the  best  of  us  to  join  the 
seraphic  hosts,  or  make  an  erring  brother  or  a  frail 
sister  the  proper  associate  of  the  devils  in  Luther's  hell. 

Still  less  can  we  imagine  that  the  God  of  a  world  like 
this,  disclosing,  at  every  step  we  take  in  it,  adaptations 
infinite  in  number  and  in  character  marvelous  beyond 
all  human  conception,  should  consign  any  one  of  hia 
creatures  to  an  abode  for  which  he  was  not  strictly 
adapted. 


488  THE   LOSS    OP   IDENTITY 

But  if  the  change  instantly  succeeding  the  momentary 
sleep  of  deatk  be  far  greater  than  that  we  have 
imagined  in  a  creature  lying  down  at  night  an  infant 
and  awaking  next  morning  a  full-grown  man,  and  if, 
in  this  latter  case,  identity  would  be  lost,  how  much 
more  in  the  former! 

The  body  is  gone :  what  continuous  links  of  identity 
remain?  The  mind,  the  feelings.  Transform  these, 
and  every  link  is  severed  connecting,  for  us,  a  Here  with 
a  Hereafter. 

It  is  not  WE,  in  any  practical  sense,  who  survive,  but 
others.  A  human  being  dies  on  earth ;  a  seraph,  or  a 
demon,  appears  in  heaven  or  in  hell.* 

It  is  idle  to  say  that  this  is  a  fine-drawn  theoretical 
distinction,  the  mere  sophism  of  a  logician.  It  is  pre- 
cisely because  of  its  practical  character  that  I  am  in- 
duced here  to  put  it  forward. 

I  do  not  affirm  that  men  confess  to  themselves  their 
unbelief  that  they,  the  same  individuals  who  now  think 
and  feel,  will  exist  in  a  future  state.  That  is  not  the 
form  which  the  evil  assumes. 

Professing  Christians  are  wont  to  declare  that  they 
will  live  again,  as  glorified  angels,  in  heaven.  And,  in 
a  certain  theoretical  sense,  they  believe  it.  They  would 
be  shocked  if  one  w^ere  to  suggest  that  they  have  not 
faith  in  an  after-life  for  themselves.     So  far  as  a  human 


*  A  similar  idea  has  been  elsewhere  expressed : — "An  instantaneous 
change,  either  from  good  to  evil  or  from  evil  to  good,  if  effected  in  a 
sovereign  manner  by  a  foreign  power,  and  eflfected  irrespectively  of  an 
economy  of  motives,  would  rather  be  the  annihilation  of  one  being  and  the 
creation  of  another,  than  the  changing  of  the  character  of  the  same  being; 
for  it  is  of  the  very  nature  of  a  change  of  character  that  there  be  an 
internal  process,  a  concurrence  of  the  will,  and  yielding  of  the  lational 
faculties  to  rational  inducements,  and  also  the  giving  way  of  one  "species 
of  desires  and  one  class  of  habits  to  another."— "/'Ay«tcoi  Theory  (^ 
Another  Life,"  London,  1839,  chap.  xiii.  p.  181. 


THE   CONCEPTION    OF   TWO    LIVES.  489 

Deing  can  identify  himself  with  another  creature  essen 
tially  different,  they  do  believe  that  they,  now  living, 
and  the  glorified  angels,  hereafter  to  live,  are  the  self- 
same persons. 

But  the  very  expressions  they  currently  employ 
betray  the  imperfect  character  of  this  belief  "  We 
shall  live  again,''  they  say.  The  expression  implies  a 
hiatus.  And  they  actually  feel  as  they  express  them- 
selves. Their  faith  does  not  call  up  the  idea  of  con- 
tinuous life.  Death,  for  them,  is  not  a  herald,  but  a  de- 
stroyer,— the  fell  exterminator,  not  the  welcome  de- 
liverer.* The  drooping  willow,  the  dark  cypress,  are 
his  emblems;  not  the  myrtle  and  the  laurel. 

Their  conception  is  that  of  two  lives,  with  a  dreary 
gulf  between.  The  descent  to  that  gulf  is  fitly  accom- 
panied, they  think,  by  lamentation.  The  mourners  go 
about  the  streets.  It  is  not  a  worthless,  obscuring  in- 
cumbrance thrown  ofi*  and  left  behind  in  its  kindred 
earth,  while  a  freed  spirit  rejoices  in  its  emancipation : 
it  is  WE  who  go  down  to  the  gloomy  tomb,  where  there 
is  neither  work,  nor  device,  nor  knowledge,  nor  wisdom  j 
nay,  where  hope  itself  is  extinct. 

"In  the  cold  grave,  to  which  we  hast^, 
There  are  no  acts  of  pardon  past; 
But  fixed  the  doom  of  all  remains, 
And  everlasting  silence  reigns." 

Can  such  conceptions  as  these  obtain  among  us,  yet 
ipterpose  between  man  and  his  celestial  home  no  dis- 
torting medium, no  obscuring  vail? 


*  If  I  had  the  superintendence  of  a  picturesque  cemetery,  the  lines  OT«r 
its  entrauce-gate  should  be  from  Mrs.  Hemans: — 

"  Why  should  not  he  whose  touch  dissolves  our  chain 
Put  on  his  robes  of  beauty,  when  he  comes 
As  a  deliverer?" 


41)0  MAN    CAxXNOT   SYMPATHIZE   WITH 

But  there  is  another  important  view  to  be  taken  of 
this  matter. 

Yeneration  is  one  of  the  most  influential  sentiments 
of  our  nature, — universal,  or  nearly  so,  in  its  preva- 
lence; and  no  legislator,  with  a  just  knowledge  of 
human  kind,  ignores  or  overlooks  its  influence.  But 
when  veneration  engrosses  the  human  character,  when, 
as  in  the  case  of  ancient  anchorite  or  ascetic  monk, 
human  life  is  wholly  spent  in  adoration  and  in  rapt 
contemplation  of  God  and  celestial  things,  not  only  is 
the  character  dwarfed  and  injured,  but  the  feelings 
become  morbid  and  sound  judgment  disappears.  Here 
upon  earth,  no  one  sentiment  can  be  sufi'ered  exclusively 
to  occupy  a  njan,  without  producing  an  abnormal  con- 
dition of  mind,  greatly  prejudicial  alike  to  his  improve- 
ment and  to  his  usefulness. 

If  the  sudden  transformation  of  character  which 
Luther's  system  presupposes  does  actually  take  place 
immediately  after  death,  or  immediately  before  a  Day 
of  Judgment,  then  all  this  maybe  changed;  then  man, 
being  no  longer  the  creature  we  find  him  here,  may  at 
once  become  adapted  to  a  state  of  being  in  which  prayer 
and  praise  are  the  sole  and  everlasting  avocations.  In 
the  mean  time,  however,  on  this  side  the  grave,  man 
is  not  so  changed.  While  human  beings  remain  here 
upon  earth,  therefore,  they  are  not,  nor  ever  can  be, 
prepared  for  heaven,  in  the  common  acceptation  of  that 
word. 

But,  according  to  another  law  of  our  nature,  we 
sympathize  little  with  that  for  which  we  are  not  prepared. 
If  we  set  about  endeavoring  to  imagine  how  we  should 
feel  if  we  were  entirely  diff'erent  from  what  we  are,  the 
result  is  a  dull  and  chill  perception,  that  never  reaches 
the  feelings  or  warms  the  heart.  Can  the  bold,  active, 
unlettered  youth,  whose  enjoyment  centers  in  the  sports 
of  the  field,  realize,  by  any  mentaj  efl^grt,  the  happinesa 


THAT   FOR   WHICH    HE   IS   NOT   PREPARED.  491 

of  the  artist,  haunted  by  visions  of  beauty,  or  the  deep 
satisfaction  of  the  student,  surrounded  by  his  books 
and  reveling  in  the  vast  realms  of  thought  which  these 
disclose  ?  He  hears  of  such  delights,  perhaps,  and  de- 
nies  not  their  existence;  but  the  cold  assent  he  gives 
never  attains  the  grade  of  a  governing  motive,  nor 
suffices  to  influence  his  life. 

To  human  beings,  therefore,  such  as  they  are  upon 
earth,  the  eternal  life  of  the  "rapt  seraph  who  adores 
and  burns"  has  no  living  charm.  Men  may  reason 
themselves,  and  sometimes  they  do,  into  an  artificial 
rapture  of  enthusiasm,  pending  the  influence  of  w^hich 
they  experience  an  actual  longing  to  join  the  angelic 
hosts  and  share  in  their  changeless  occupation.  But 
unless  they  have  become,  more  or  less,  secluded  from 
the  duties  of  active  life,  or  have  abandoned  themselves, 
in  some  closed  retreat,  to  a  constant  routine  of  exclu- 
sively devotional  and  contemplative  exercises,  it  is,  for 
the  most  part,  the  reason  that  frigidly  argues,  not  the 
genial  impulse  of  the  feelings  that  adopts  and  assents. 
In  Protestant  Christendom  the  heart  of  the  millions  is 
not  reached  by  the  prospect  commonly  presented  to 
them  of  eternal  life. 

Here  is  no  assertion  that  heaven,  as  it  has  been 
depicted  to  us,  will  not,  at  some  future  epoch,  be  a  state 
adapted  to  the  human  race.  We  know  not  whither 
ultramundane  progress  may  lead.  We  cannot  tell  what 
man  may  become  when,  in  another  stage  of  existence, 
he  has  run  another  career  of  improvement.  It  will  be 
time  enough  to  speculate  upon  this  when  that  future 
career  shall  have  commenced.  But  we  do  know  what 
manner  of  creature  man  now  is;  and  we  do  know  that, 
while  here,  he  must  be  governed  by  the  laws  of  his 
being.  He  must  appreciate  before  he  is  fitted  to  enjoy. 
And  if  that  which  he  is  not  fitted  to  enjoy  be  promised 
to  him  cm  certain  conditions,  the  anticipation  of  it  will, 


49J  THE   VIRTUOUS   REASONABLY   DESIRE 

as  a   generul  rule,  call  forth  no  strenuous  exertion, — 
because  it  will  awaken  no  vivid  desire. 

Nor  let  it  be  said  that  it  is  to  the  man  of  low  desires 
or  groveling  instincts  alone  that  heaven,  shorn  of  a  pre- 
liminary Hades,  is  too  distant  in  time,  or  too  remote  in 
feeling,  to  be  appreciated  or  longed  for.  How  numerous 
and  distinct  are  the  virtuous  emotions  that  now  move 
the  heart  of  man  !  The  promptings  to  acts  of  benevo- 
lence and  deeds  of  mercy,  the  stirrings  of  magnanimity, 
the  efforts  of  self-denial)  fortitude,  courage,  energy, 
perseverance,  resignation;  the  devotion  of  love,  and  the 
yearnings  of  compassion  : — what  a  varied  list  is  here  I 
And  in  that  man  who  confesses  the  practical  short- 
comings of  his  life,  who  feels  how  far  better  was  his 
nature  than  have  been  its  manifestations,  who  knows 
how  often  in  this  world  noble  impulse  has  been  re- 
pressed, how  many  generous  aspirings  have  here 
scarcely  been  called  into  action, — in  the  heart  of  such 
a  man  must  not  the  hope  be  strong,  that  the  life  which 
now  is  may  have  a  sequel  and  a  complement  in  that 
which  is  to  come  ?  He  who  has  labored  long  and 
patiently  to  control  and  discipline  a  wayward  nature, — 
he  who  has  striven  in  this  world,  with  earnest  and 
patient  effort,  after  self-culture,  moral  and  intellectual, — 
may  he  not  properly  desire  and  rationally  expect  that 
he  will  be  allowed  to  prosecute  the  task,  here  so  im- 
perfectly commenced,  there,  where  there  is  no  flesh  to 
be  weak  if  the  spirit  be  willing  ?  Shall  the  philanthro- 
pist, whose  life  has  been  one  long  series  of  benefactions 
to  his  race,  be  blamed  if  he  cannot  surrender  at  death, 
without  regret,  the  godlike  impulse  that  bids  him  succor 
the  afflicted  and  heal  the  broken  heart  ?  Even  he  whoso 
days  have  been  spent  in  exploring  the  secrets  of  nature, 
can  he  be  expected,  unmoved,  to  relinquish  with  his 
earthly  body  the  pursuit  of  that  science  to  which  hia 


ANOTHER    STAGE    OP    ACTION.  493 

heart  was  wedded  ?*  But,  far  more,  shall  a  loving  and 
compassionate  nature  anticipate  with  complacency  the 
period  when  the  soul,  all  consecrated  to  worship  or 
filled  with  its  own  supreme  felicity,  shall  no  longer 
select,  among  its  fellow-creatures,  its  objects  either  of 
pity  or  of  love  ? 

In  a  word,  is  it  the  depraved  only  who  are  likely  to 
look  with  coldness  on  a  prospective  state  that  offers 
scarce  any  theater  for  the  exercise  of  the  qualities  we 
have  been  wont  to  admire,  and  of  the  sympathies  that 
have  hitherto  bound  us  to  our  kind?  Is  it  the  vicious 
alone  who  may  find  little  to  attract  in  a  future  where 
one  universal  sentiment,  how  holy  soever,  is  to  replace 
all  others? — where  one  virtue,  one  duty,  is  instantly  to 
supersede,  in  the  character  and  the  career  of  man,  the 
varied  virtues,  the  thousand  duties,  which,  here  below, 
his  Creator  has  required  at  his  hands? 

Men  may  take  their  fellows  to  task  for  the  indifference 
with  which  so  many  regard  a  heaven  which  as  yet 
they  are  neither  prepared  to  appreciate  nor  fitted  to 
enjoy;  God,  who  has  made  man's  heart  the  multiform 
and  richly-dowered  thing  it  is,  never  will. 

I  anticipate  the  objection  which  may  here  be  made 
Our  conceptions  may  not  rise  to  the  height  of  that 
transcendent  heaven  which  has   been  described  to  us; 

•  If  it  be  doubted  whether  such  regrets  ever  haunt  the  death-bed  of  a 
scientific  man,  let  the  following  vouch  for  the  fact: — "Berzelius  then 
became  aware  that  his  last  hour  had  come,  and  that  he  must  bid  adieu  to 
that  science  he  had  loved  so  well.  Summoning  to  his  bedside  one  of  his 
devoted  friends,  who  approached  him  weeping,  Berzelius  also  burst  into 
'.«ars;  and  then,  when  the  first  emotion  was  over,  he  exclaimed,  *Do  not 
wonder  that  I  weep.  You  will  not  believe  me  a  weak  man,  nor  think  I  am 
alarmed  by  what  the  doctor  has  to  announce  to  me.  ^I  am  prepared  for  alL 
Rut  I  have  to  bid  farewell  to  science;  and  you  ought  not  to  wonder  that  it 
costs  me  dear.'"  .  .  .  "This  was  Berzelius's  leave-taking  of  science* 
in  truth,  a  touching  farewell." — "Sifjeatrdm'a  Minnes/eat  o/ver  Berxelitu," 
Btockholm,  1849,  pp.  79,  80. 

■k2 


494r  man's  instincts  too  little  studied. 

our  feelings  may  not  warm  under  the  description  of  it; 
but^  if  we  know  nothing  of  a  mediate  state  of  existence 
except  that  it  is, — if  we  have  scarcely  a  glimpse  disclosing 
its  character,  or  indicating  its  privileges,  or  revealing  its 
enjoyments, — how  much  better  or  happier  shall  we  be  for 
a  belief  so  vague  and  shapeless  ?  Eather  a  Heaven  whose 
beatific  glories  dazzle  without  attracting,  than  a  Para- 
dise of  which  the  very  outlines  are  indistinguishable. 
How  can  we  vividly  desire  an  unknown  life,  or  be  com- 
forted or  influenced  by  anticipation  of  a  state  so  dim 
and  shadowy? 

If  those  who  put  forth  this  objection  assumed  only 
facts  that  must  be  admitted,  the  objection  would  be  fatal. 
What  they  do  assume  is,  that  we  can  know  nothing  of  a 
Hades  in  the  future.     Are  they  right  in  this  ? 

Beyond  the  scanty  and  (be  it  admitted)  insufficient 
indications  to  be  gleaned  from  Scripture,  I  perceive  but 
two  sources  whence  such  knowledge  can  be  derived : 
first,  analogy;  and,  secondly,  such  revealings  as  may 
come  to  us  through  narratives  similar  in  character  to 
those  I  have  brought  together  in  this  volume,  or  other- 
wise from  ultramundane  source. 

We  study  our  instincts  too  little.  We  listen  to  their 
lessons  too  carelessly.     Instincts  are  from  God. 

None  of  the  instincts  which  we  observe  among  animal 
races  other  than  our  own  are  useless,  or  ill  adapted,  or 
incomplete.  The  impulse  induces  an  action  strictly 
corresponding  to  future  contingencies  which  actually 
arise.  In  one  sense,  these  instincts  are  of  a  prophetic 
character.  When  the  bee,  before  a  flower  has  been  rifled 
of  its  sweets,  prepares  the  waxen  cells,  when  a  bird,  in 
advance  of  incubation,  constructs  its  downy  nest,  the 
adaptation  is  as  perfect  as  if  every  coming  incident  had 
been  expressly  foretold. 

Man  has  reason  and  instincts.  Sometimes  he  forgets 
thia     It  is  his  right  anc"  duty,  in  the  exercise  of  bia 


man's  nature  and  his  situation.  495 

reason,  to  judc^e  his  instincts;  yet  reverently,  as  that  in 
which  there  may  be  a  hidden  wisdom.  Men,  sometimes 
from  a  religious  error,  more  frequently  from  a  worldly 
one,  are  wont  to  fall  into  the  thought  that  it  is  expe- 
dient to  discard  or  to  repress  them. 

There  is  a  strange  mystery  pervading  human  society. 
It  is  the  apparent  anomaly  presented  by  man's  cha- 
racter taken  in  connection  with  his  position  here. 

Let  ua  speak  of  the  better  portion  of  mankind, — the 
true  and  worthy  type  of  the  race.  What,  in  a  word,  is 
the  history  of  their  lives?  A  bright  vision  and  a  disen- 
chantment. A  struggle  between  two  influences:  one, 
native,  inherent;  the  other,  foreign,  extraneous,  earthly; 
ft  waiTing  between  the  man's  nature  and  his  situation. 

Not  that  the  world  he  enters  can  be  said  to  be  un- 
adapted  to  receive  him.  For  in  it  there  is  knowledge 
to  impart,  experience  to  bestow,  effort  to  make,  progress 
to  attain;  there  are  trials  to  test  courage  and  firmness; 
there  are  fellow-creatures  to  love;  there  are  helpless 
creatures  to  aid;  there  are  suffering  creatures  to  pity. 
There  is  much  to  interest,  and  not  a  little  to  improve. 
The  present  is,  doubtless,  an  appropriate  and  necessary 
stage  in  the  journey  of  Hfe.  None  the  less  is  it  a  world 
the  influences  of  which  never  fully  develop  the  cha- 
racter of  its  noblest  inhabitant.  It  is  a  world  of  which 
the  most  fortunate  combinations,  the  highest  enjoyments, 
leave  disappointed  and  unsatisfied  some  of  the  most  ele- 
vated instincts  of  man.  All  religions,  more  or  less  dis- 
tinctly, admit  this. 

We  speak  of  our  better  nature,  as  though  there  were 
two.  There  is  but  one,— one  and  the  same  in  child- 
hood, in  youth,  in  manhood,  till  death. 

The  same,  for  the  Immortal  perishes  not;  never 
obliterated,  but  how  often,  in  the  course  of  this  earth- 
life,  dulled,  dimmed,  obscured  I  How  the  fleshly  envelope 
weighs  upon  it  I    And  what  a  training,  as  it  runs  the 


496  THE   CHILDREN   OF   THIS   WORLD 

gauntlet  of  society,  it  has!  Warm,  impulsive,  it  meets 
with  cold  calculation;  generous,  it  encounters  maxims 
of  selfishness;  guileless,  it  is  schooled  to  deceit;  believing, 
it  is  overwhelmed  with  doubts,  it  is  cheated  with  lies. 
And  for  the  images  of  its  worship, — how  are  they  broken 
and  despoiled!  It  had  set  them  up  on  earthly  pedestal, 
and  had  clothed  them,  all  unworthy,  in  the  robes  of  its 
own  rich  conception.  Its  creative  promptings  had  as- 
sumed, perhaps,  their  highest  and  holiest  phase, — the 
phase  of  love;  and  then  it  had  embodied,  in  a  material 
existence,  that  which  was  but  an  ethereal  portion  of 
itself;  investing — alas,  how  often! — some  leaden  idol 
with  the  trappings  of  a  hero  or  the  vestments  of  a  god 
Bitter  the  awakening !  Dearly  rued  the  self-deception ! 
Yet  the  garment  was  of  heaven,  though  the  shattered 
idol  was  of  earth. 

Thus,  for  one  encouragement  to  its  holier  aspirations, 
it  receives  twenty  sordid  lessons  from  the  children  of 
this  world,  grown  wise  in  their  generation;  so  wise  that, 
in  their  conceit,  they  despise  and  take  to  task  a  child 
of  light.  They  deride  his  disinterestedness;  they  mock 
at  his  enthusiasm.  Assuming  the  tone  of  mentors,  they 
read  him  prudent  warnings  against  the  folly  of  philan- 
thropy and  the  imbecility  of  romance.* 

And  thus,  in  ten  thousand  instances,  God's  instincts 
fall,  like  seed  by  the  wayside,  on  hard  and  stony  ground. 
They  thrive  not.  Their  growth  is  stunted.  Happy  if 
the  divine  germ  penetrate  the  crusted  surface  at  all ! 

Either  this  is  an  example  of  a  failure  in  adaptation, 
or  we  are  looking  at  a  portion  only  of  a  great  whole. 

Shall  we  suppose  it  a  failure  ?  Shall  we  imagine  that 
He  who,  in  the  lower,  cared  for  it  that  the  innate  impulse 
should  exactly  correspond  to  the  future  occasion,  failed 
to  exert  similar  care  in  the  higher? — that  the  instincts 

,*  A  word  of  excellent  etymology,  if  of  indifferent  reputation^,— deriyed 
from  the  Welsh  rhamatita,  to  rise  over,  to  soar,  to  reach  to  a  distance. 


AND   THE   CHILDREN    OF   LIGHT.  497 

of  the  bee  and  the  bird  are  to  find  theaters  of  actiou 
perfectly  suited  to  their  exercise,  while  those  of  a  crea 
ture  far  above  them  are  to  be  dwarfed  in  development 
and  disappointed  in  fruition  ? 

We  outrage  all  analogy  in  adopting  such  a  hypo- 
thesis. We  must  accept  this  anomaly,  if  we  accept  it  at 
all,  as  an  exception — the  only  one  known  to  us  through- 
out the  entire  economy  of  God — to  a  rule  co-extensive 
with  the  universe. 

But  if,  unable  to  credit  the  existence  of  so  striking 
an  anomaly,  w^e  fall  back  on  the  remaining  hypothesis, 
— that  here  we  are  but  looking  on  a  fraction  of  human 
life, — then  from  that  fraction  we  may  obtain  some  idea 
of  the  remainder.  Then  we  may  predicate  in  a  general 
way,  and  with  strong  probabilities,  something  of  the 
character  and  occupations  of  Hades. 

There  are  favored  moments, — at  least,  in  every  good 
man's  life, — moments  when  the  hard  and  the  selfish  and 
the  worldly  are  held  in  abeyance, — moments  when  the 
soul  springs  forth,  like  a  durance-freed  bird,  equal  to 
every  effort,  capable  of  every  sacrifice;  when  nothing 
seems  too  high  to  reach,  nothing  too  distant  to  compass, 
— moments  in  which  the  exultant  spirit  recognizes  its 
like  welling  up  in  some  other  heart's  holy  confession,  op 
flashing  out  through  true  poetry  like  this : — 

"  Past  the  high  clouds  floating  round, 
Where  the  eagle  is  not  found, 

Past  the  million-starry  choir,  .  .  . 
Through  the  midst  of  foul  opinions, 

Flaming  passions,  sensual  mire, 
To  the  Mind's  serene  dominions, 

I  aspire  !"* 

These  are  the  moments  when  the  still,  small  voice— 
the  Immortal  one — asserts  its  supremacy.    These  are  tbo 


•  The  lines  are  Barry  Cornwall's. 
42* 


U)8  THE   UTTERINGS   OP 

moTnenis  when  man  feels  that  if  life  were  but  made  np 
of  such,  he  would  need  no  other  heaven. 

And  these  are  the  moments  when  the  spirit  of  man, 
Sibyl-like,  may  be  questioned  of  the  future;  for  the 
divine  rage  is  upon  her,  and  her  foreboding  instincts  are 
the  earnest  of  what  is  to  be. 

This  argument  from  analogy,  it  will  occur  to  the 
reader,  is  similar  to  that  which  has  so  often  been  made 
in  proof  of  the  soul's  immortality.  A  universal  desire 
must  have  an  ultimate  correspondence.  But,  if  we  look 
closely  at  it,  the  argunjent  will  be  seen  to  prove  much 
more  than  continued  existence.  The  desire  has  a  certain 
definiteness.  In  its  purest  type,  it  is  not  a  vague,  coward 
dread  of  annihilation ;  it  is  not  a  mere  selfish  longing 
to  he.  The  instinct  is  of  far  nobler  aim  and  wider  scope 
than  this:  it  is  the  voice  of  the  Ideal  in  man;  and  it 
teaches  not  one  lesson,  but  many.  It  calls  up  before 
him  a  thousand  varied  images  of  the  Grand,  and  the 
Good,  and  the  Beautiful,  and  tells  him,  "These  are 
for  thee."  It  appeals  to  the  divinity  within  him,  and 
declares,  "  This  thou  mayest  be."  But  as  it  is  to  man, 
so  it  is  of  man,  that  it  speaks, — of  man's  capabilities, 
of  man's  career,  of  the  excellence  that  he  may  attain, — 
he,  the  human  creature,  and  not  another.  The  desires 
it  awakens  are  of  corresponding  character. 

But,  if  we  are  to  take  a  present  desire  for  proof  of  a 
future  condition,  let  us  make  clear  to  ourselves  what 
that  desire  demands.  Does  it  crave,  at  this  stage  of  its 
progress,  another  nature  or  sublimer  dreams  ?  No ;  but 
only  that  this  nature  might  maintain  the  elevation  which 
its  aspirations  have  sometimes  reached, — only  that  its 
dream-glimpses  of  moments  might  have  reality  and 
endurance  in  a  purer  atmosphere  and  under  a  origbter 
Bky. 

It  is  a  stage  for  the  unchecked  exercise  of  earthly 


THE   PRESAGING    VOICE.  199 

virtues,  toward  which,  as  yet,  the  heart's  magnet  points. 
The  good  which  we  would,  yet  did  not,  that  we  would 
still  do.  The  human  virtues  which  we  have  loved  moro 
than  practiced,  these  we  would  still  cherish  and  exem- 
pli iy.  The  human  affections  which  have  suffered  ship- 
wreck and  pined  for  some  quiet  haven,  they,  too,  still 
ht)pe  for  exercise,  still  yearn  for  satisfaction.  Our  de- 
votional impulses,  also,  are  rife  and  aspirant,  imploring 
better  knowledge  and  a  clearer  light.  Yet  they  consti- 
tute but  one  emotion  out  of  many.  They  interest  deeply, 
they  elevate ;  but  they  do  not  engross. 

The  prophetic  voice,  then, — the  divine  foreboding, — 
speaks  not  of  one  life  completed  and  another  to  com- 
mence. It  indicates  not,  as  the  next  phase  of  existence, 
a  Day  of  Judgment  on  which  hope  must  die,  and  then 
(but  for  the  blessed  alone)  a  heaven  too  immaculate  for 
progress,  too  holy  for  human  avocation  or  human  en- 
deavor. Its  presentiments  are  of  a  better  world,  but  of 
a  world  still, — the  abode  of  emancipated  spirits,  but  of 
human  spirits, — a  world  where  there  is  work  to  do,  a  race 
to  run,  a  goal  to  reach, — a  world  where  we  shall  find, 
transplanted  from  earth  to  a  more  genial  land,  energy, 
courage,  perseverance,  high  resolves,  benevolent  actions^ 
Hope  to  encourage,  Mercy  to  plead,  and  Love — tho 
earth-clog  shaken  off  that  dimmed  her  purity — still  se- 
lecting her  chosen  ones,  but  to  be  separated  from  them 
no  more. 

Such  are  the  utterings  of  the  presaging  voice.  A  state, 
then,  suddenly  reached,  in  which  one  class  onl}^  of  our 
emotional  impulses  should  find  scope  for  development 
or  opportunity  for  action,  would  leave  man's  instinct, 
except  in  a  single  phase,  unanswered  and  unsatisfied. 
There  would  be  an  initiative,  and  no  correspondence ; 
a  promise,  and  no  fulfillment;  a  preparation,  and  no  re- 
sult    Our  earth-life  would,  indeed,   be  succeeded  by 


500  MAN   REMAINS    HUMAN. 

another;  yet  in  itself  it  would  forever  remain  frag- 
mentary and  incomplete. 

If,  then,  we  have  accepted  man's  universal  desire  fbr 
immortality  as  proof  that  his  spirit  is  immortal,  let  ua 
accept  also  the  trendings  of  that  desire  as  foreshadow- 
ings  of  the  Paradise  to  which  that  spirit  is  bound. 

Thus,  by  the  light  of  analogy  alone,  we  find  every 
probability  in  favor  of  the  conclusion  that,  in  the  .next 
phase  of  his  existence,  man  does  not  cease  to  be  the 
human  creature  be  is,  and  that  the  virtues,  the  occupa- 
tions, and  the  enjoyments  that  await  him  in  Hades  are 
as  many  and  various  as  those  which  surround  him  here, 
— better,  indeed,  brighter,  of  nobler  type  and  more  ex- 
tended range,  but  still  supplemental  only,  as  appertain- 
ing to  a  second  stage  of  progression, — to  a  theater  fairer 
than  this,  yet  not  wholly  disconnected  from  it, — to  a  land 
not  yet  divine,  but  in  which  may  be  realized  the  holiest 
aspirations  of  earth. 

A  step  beyond  this  it  is  still,  perhaps,  permitted  to  go. 
If  there  be  footfalls  on  the  boundary  of  another  world, 
let  us  listen  to  their  echoes  and  take  note  of  the  indica- 
tions these  may  afford. 

I  do  not  pretend  that  there  is  to  be  found  in  the  ex- 
amples adduced  in  this  volume  sufficient  to  mark  fully 
and  distinctly  the  character  of  our  next  phase  of  life; 
and  I  will  not  at  the  present  go  beyond  these.  Yet,  few 
in  number  as  are  the  indications,  they  touch  on  master- 
influences. 

Eminent  among  these  is  one  clearly  to  be  derived  from 
many  of  the  preceding  narratives,* — an  earnest  of  social 
progress  in  the  future,  which  we  may  hail  with  joy  and 

*  As  in  the  case  of  Mary  GoflFe,  and  of  Mrs.  E ,  (see  "  The  Dying 

Mother  and  her  Babe/')  also  in  that  of  Mr.  Wynyard,  of  Captain  G , 

(see  "  The  Fourteenth  of  November,")  and,  indeed,  in  all  cases  in  which  tha 
epirit  is  alleged  to  have  appeared  soon  after  death  to  some  beloved  survivor. 


A    MASTER-INFLUENCE.  501 

should  accept  with  gratitude.  If  any  reliance  can  bo 
placed  on  some  of  the  best-authenticated  incidents  re- 
corded in  the  foregoing  pages,  they  not  only  prove  (wnat, 
indeeo,  we  might  rationally  assume)  that  it  is  the  body 
only  which  imposes  the  shackles  of  distance,  but  they 
afford  evidence  also  that  the  released  spirit  instinctively 
seeks  its  selected  ones,  and  attains  in  a  moment  the  spot 
where  cluster  its  affections. 

But  if,  beyond  a  sound  body,  a  clear  conscience,  and 
an  absence  of  the  fear  of  want,  we  look  around  us,  in 
this  world,  in  search  of  that  one  circumstance  which 
above  all  others  stamps  our  lot  in  life  as  fortunate  or 
the  reverse,  where  shall  we  find  it?  When  we  picture 
to  ourselves  some  happy  prospect  in  the  future,  some 
tranquil  retreat  whence  care  shall  be  excluded  and 
where  contentment  will  dwell,  what  is  the  essential  to 
that  earthly  paradise  ?  Who  that  deserves  such  bless- 
ing but  has  the  answer  on  his  lips  ? 

In  the  deepest  regrets  of  the  Past,  how  legibly  is  that 
answer  written !  We  meet,  among  our  fellow-creatures, 
with  some,  as  to  whom  we  feel  how  mighty  for  good, 
upon  our  minds  and  hearts,  is  their  power;  we  have 
glimpses  of  others,  whose  very  atmosphere  sheds  over 
us  a  glow  of  happiness.  The  stream  sweeps  us  apart, 
and  we  find  the  same  influence  on  earth  no  more. 

But  if,  hereafter,  the  principle  of  insulation  that  pre- 
vails throughout  this  earthl}'  pilgrimage  is  to  give  place 
to  the  spirit  of  communion  unchecked  by  space;  if,  in 
another  phase  of  life,  desire  is  to  correspond  to  locomo- 
tion ;  if,  there,  to  long  for  association  is  to  obtain  it,  if 
to  lov«  is  to  mingle  in  the  society  of  the  loved;  what 
an  element,  not  of  passive  feeling  but  of  active  organiza- 
tion, is  Sympathy  destined  to  become !  And  how  much 
that  would  render  this  world  too  blessed  to  leave  is  in 
store  for  us  in  another  ! 

If  we  sit  down,  in  our  calmest  and  most  dispassionate 


5j2  we  are  journeying  toward 

moments,  to  consider  how  much  of  our  highest  and 
least  selfish  pleasures^  moral,  social,  intellectual,  has 
been  due  to  a  daily  interchange  of  thought  and  feeling 
between  kindred  minds  and  hearts,  and  if  we  reflect 
that  all  the  other  losses  and  crosses  of  life  have  been  as 
nothing  when  compared  with  those  which,  by  distance 
and  by  death,  our  severed  sympathies  and  affections 
have  suffered,  we  may  be  led  to  conclude  that  the  single 
change  above  indicated  as  appertaining  to  our  next 
phase  of  life  will  suffice  there  to  assure  a  happy  exist- 
ence to  pure  minds  and  genial  hearts ;  to  those  who  in 
this  world,  erring  and  frail  as  they  may  have  been,  have 
not  wholly  quenched  the  spirit  of  light;  with  whom 
the  voice  within  has  still  been  more  potent  than  the 
din  without;  who  have  cherished,  if  often  in  silence 
and  secret,  God's  holy  instincts,  the  flowers  that  are 
still  to  bloom;  and  who  may  hope  in  that  Hereafter, 
where  like  will  attract  its  like,  to  find  a  home  where 
never  shall  enter  the  Summoning  Angel  to  announce 
the  separation  of  its  inmates, — a  home  of  unsundered 
affections  among  the  just  and  good. 

I  might  proceed  to  touch  on  other  indications  scarcely 
less  important  or  less  encouraging  than  the  preceding, 
but  which,  in  the  examples  furnished  in  this  work,*  are 
less  palpably  marked;  as  that  when,  at  death,  the  earth- 
mask  drops,  the  mind  and  the  heart  are  unvailed,  and 
thoughts  are  discerned  without  the  intervention  of 
words;  so  that,  in  the  spirit-land,  we  "shall  know  even 
as  we  are  known."  It  will,  then,  be  a  land  of  Truth, 
where  deceit  will  find  no  lurking-place,  and  where  the 

*  The  prayer  oflFored  by  Mrs.  W,  (see  narrative  entitled  "  The  Rejected 
Suitor")  was  a  silent  one ;  and  those  who  have  obtained  similar  commu-aica- 
tions  know  well  that  a  mental  question  usually  suflBces  to  procure  a  perti- 
nent answer.  This  phenomenon  of  thought-reading  I  have  myself  verified 
•gain  tad  again. 


A  LAND  OF  LOVE  AND  TRUTH.  503 

word  "  falsehood"  will  designate  no  possible  sin.  Can  we 
imagine  an  influence  more  salutary,  more  nobly  regene- 
rating, more  satisfying  to  the  heart,  than  this  ? 

But  I  pause,  and  check  the  impulse  to  amplify  the 
picture.  Hereafter,  it  may  be,  in  possession  of  more 
copious  materials,  I  may  be  enabled  better  to  carry  out 
such  a  task. 

Meanwhile,  in  pursuit  of  my  immediate  object,  there 
needs  not,  perhaps,  further  elaboration.  I  may  have 
adduced  sufficient  argument  in  proof  that  the  hypo- 
thesis of  spirit-visitation  involves  no  absurd  postulate. 
I  may  also,  perhaps,  have  proved  to  the  satisfaction  of  a 
portion  of  my  readers,  that  the  common  conceptions  of 
death  are  false, — that  death  is  not,  as  Plato  argued  and 
as  millions  believe,  the  opposite  of  life,  but  only  the 
agency  whereby  life  changes  its  phase. 

Yet  I  know  how  fast-rooted  are  long-cherished  opi- 
nions. Even  while  I  have  been  writing,  I  have  occa- 
sionally been  fain  to  tolerate  current  phrases  of  faulty 
import.  Although  in  the  preceding  pages,  for  the  sake 
of  being  intelligible,  I  have  employed  the  expressions 
"on  this  side  the  grave,"  "beyond  the  tomb,"  and  the 
like,  these,  as  applied  to  human  beings,  are,  strictly 
speaking,  inaccurate.  We  have  nothing  to  do  with  the 
grave.  We  do  not  descend  to  the  tomb.  It  is  a  cast-off 
garment,  encoffined,  to  which  are  paid  the  rites  of  b»- 
pulture. 


CHAPTEE  II. 

4 
CONCLUSION. 

•In  completing  this  design,  I  am  ignorant  neither  of  the  greatness  of  the 
work,  nor  of  my  own  incapacity.  My  hope,  however,  is,  that  if  the  lore 
of  my  subject  carry  me  too  far,  I  may,  at  least,  obtain  the  excuse  of  affec- 
tion.    It  is  not  granted  to  man  to  love  and  be  wise." — Bacon. 

Before  I  part  from  the  reader,  he  may  desire  to  ask 
me  whether  I  conceive  the  reality  of  occasional  spirit- 
ual interference  to  be  here  conclusively  made  out. 

I  prefer  that  he  should  take  the  answer  from  his  own 
deliberate  judgment.  In  one  respect,  he  is,  probably, 
better  qualified  to  judge  than  I.  It  is  not  in  human 
nature  to  ponder  long  and  deeply  any  theory, — to  spend 
years  in  search  of  its  proofs  and  in  examination  of  its 
probabilities, — yet  maintain  that  nice  equanimity  which 
accepts  or  rejects  without  one  extraneous  bias.  He  who 
simply  inspects  may  discriminate  more  justly  than  he 
whose  feelings  have  been  enlisted  in  collecting  and  col- 
lating. 

Yet  I  will  not  withhold  the  admission  that,  after  put- 
ting the  strictest  guard  on  the  favoritism  of  parent- 
age, I  am  unable  to  explain  much  of  what  my  reason 
tells  me  I  must  here  receive  as  true,  on  any  other  hypo- 
thesis than  the  ultramundane. 

Where  there  are  clear,  palpable  evidences  of  thought, 
of  intention,  of  foresight,  I  see  not  how  one  can  do 
otherwise  than  refer  these  to  a  thinker,  an  intender,  a 
foreseer.  Such  reference  appeurs  to  me  aot  rational 
only,  but  necessary.  If  I  refuse  to  accept  such  manifes- 
tations of  intelligence  as  indicating  the  workings  of  a 

504 


ADMI8ST0NS   DEMANDED  BY  REASON.  505 

rational  mind, — if  I  begin  to  doubt  whether  some  me- 
chanical or  chemical  combination  of  physical  elements 
may  not  put  on  the  semblance  of  reason  and  counterfeit 
the  expression  of  thought, — then  I  no  longer  perceive  the 
basis  of  my  own  right  to  assume  that  the  human  forms 
which  surround  me  have  minds  to  think  or  hearts  to 
feel.  If  our  perceptions  of  the  forest,  and  the  ocean, 
and  the  plain,  are  to  be  accepted  as  proofs  that  there 
really  is  a  material  world  around  us,  shall  we  refuse  to 
receive  our  perceptions  of  thoughts  and  feelings  other 
than  our  own,  as  evidence  that  some  being,  other  than 
ourselves,  exists,  whence  these  emanate?*  And  if  that 
being  belong  not  to  the  visible  world,  are  we  not  justi- 
fied in  concluding  that  it  has  existence  in  the  invisible? 

That  the  rational  being  of  which  we  thus  detect  the 
agency  is  invisible,  invalidates  not  at  all  the  evidence  we 
receive.  It  is  but  a  child's  logic  which  infers  that,  where 
nothing  is  seen,  nothing  exists. 

As  to  the  mode  and  place  of  existence  of  these  invi- 
sible beings,  Taylor's  conjecture  may  be  the  correct  one, 
when  he  supposes, — 

"  That  within  the  field  occupied  by  the  visible  and 
ponderable  universe,  and  on  all  sides  of  us,  there  is  ex- 
isting and  moving  another  element,  fraught  with  another 

*  Thus  argues  an  elegant  and  logical  mind: — "  On  the  table  before  us  a 
needle,  nicely  balanced,  trembles,  and  turns,  as  with  the  constancy  of  love, 
towards  a  certain  spot  in  the  arctic  regions;  but  a  mass  of  iron,  placed  near 
it,  disturbs  this  tendency  and  gives  it  a  new  direction.  We  assume,  then, 
the  presence  of  an  element  universally  diffused,  of  which  we  have  no  direct 
perception  whatever.  Now,  let  it  be  imagined  that  the  sheets  of  a  manu- 
script, scattered  confusedly  over  the  table  and  the  floor,  are  seen  to  be  slowly 
adjusting  themselves  according  to  the  order  of  the  pages,  and  that  at  la.^'t 
every  leaf  and  every  loose  fragment  has  come  into  its  due  place  and  i? 
ready  for  the  compositor.  In  such  a  case  wo  should,  without  any  scruple, 
assume  the  presence  of  an  invisible  rational  agent,  just  as  in  the  case  of 
the  oscillations  of  the  needle  we  had  assumed  the  presence  of  an  invisible 
jlcmentary  power." — Taylor's  "Phynicnl  Theorif  of  Another  Lifp."  London, 
1839.  p.  2^4. 

43 


506  THE    INVISIBLE   AND    INAUDIBLE    WORLD. 

species  of  life,  corporeal,  indeed,  and  various  in  its 
orders,  but  not  open  to  the  cognizance  of  those  who  are 
confined  to  the  conditions  of  animal  organization, — not* 
to  be  seen,  not  to  be  heard,  not  to  be  felt,  by  man.*  We 
here,"  he  continues^  "assume  the  abstract  probability 
that  our  five  modes  of  perception  arc  partial,  not  uni- 
versal, means  of  knowing  what  may  be  around  us,  and 
that,  as  the  physical  sciences  furnish  evidence  of  the 
presence  and  agency  of  certain  powers  which  entirely 
elude  the  senses,  except  in  some  of  their  remote  eifects, 
so  are  we  denied  the  right  of  concluding  that  we  are 
conscious  of  all  real  existences  within  our  sphere."f  Or, 
as  he  elsewhere  expresses  it,  "Within  any  given  bound' 
ary  there  may  be  corporeally  present  the  human  crowd 
and  the  extra-human  crowd,  and  the  latter  as  naturally 
and  simply  present  as  the  former. "J 

To  these  beings,  usually  invisible  and  inaudible  to  us, 
we  also  may  be  usually  invisible  and  inaudible.§  It 
would  seem  that  there  are  certain  conditions,  occasion- 
ally existing,  which  cause  exceptions  on  both  sides  to 
this  general  rule.  Whether  human  beings  ought  simply 
to  await  these  conditions,  or  to  seek  to  create  them,  is 
an  inquiry  which  does  not  enter  into  the  plan  of  this 
work. 

As  to  the  proofs  of  the  agency  upon  earth  of  these 
Invisibles,  I  rest  them  not  on  any  one  class  of  obser- 
vations set  forth  in  this  volume,  not  specially  on  the 
phenomena  of  dreaming,  or  of  unexplained  disturbances, 
or  of  apparitions  whether  of  the  living  or  the  dead,  or 

♦  Not  utually  open,  not  usually  to  be  seen,  Ac.,  would  here  have  been  th« 
ourrect  expression. 

t  '* Physical  Theory  of  Another  Life,"  pp.  232,  233. 

X  Work  cited,  p.  274. 

g  See  Oberlin's  opinion  on  this  subject,  at  page  364 ;  see,  also,  a  curioas 
intimation  suggested  by  an  alleged  observation  of  Madame  Hauffe,  at  pagea 
S97,  398. 


WE   MAY   DISCOVER   OUTLINES   ONLY.  50' 

of  what  seem  examples  of  ultramundane  retribution  or 
indications  of  spiritual  guardianship,  but  upon  the 
aggregate  and  concurrent  evidence  of  all  these.  It  is 
strong  confirmation  of  any  theory  that  proofs  converg- 
ing from  many  and  varying  classes  of  phenomena  unite 
in  establishing  it. 

These  proofs  are  spread  all  over  society.  The  atten- 
tion of  the  civilized  public  has  been  attracted  to  them 
in  our  day  as  it  has  not  been  for  centuries,  at  least,  be- 
fore. If  the  narrative  illustrations  here  published,  scanty 
and  imperfect  as  they  are,  obtain,  as  perhaps  they  may, 
a  wide  circulation,  they  will  provoke  further  inquiry; 
they  will  call  forth,  in  support  or  in  denial,  additional 
facts;  and,  in  any  event,  truth  must  be  the  gainer  at 
last. 

If  it  should  finally  prove  that  through  the  phenomena 
refen-ed  to  we  may  reach  some  knowledge  of  our  next 
phase  of  life,  it  will  be  impossible  longer  to  deny  the 
practical  importance  of  studying  them.  Yet  perhaps,  as 
the  result  of  that  study,  we  ought  to  expect  rather  out- 
lines, discerned  as  through  a  glass  darkly,  than  any  dis- 
tinct filling  up  of  the  picture  of  our  future  home.  We 
may  reasonably  imagine  that  it  would  injuriously  inter- 
fere in  the  aifairs  of  this  world  if  too  much  or  too  cer- 
tain information  came  to  us  from  another.  The  duties 
of  the  present  might  be  neglected  in  the  rapt  contem- 
plation of  the  future.  The  feeling  within  us  that  to  die 
is  gain  might  assume  the  ascendencj^,  might  disgust  us 
with  this  checkered  earth-life,  and  even  tempt  us  rashly 
to  anticipate  the  appointed  summons;  thus,  perhaps, 
prematurely  cutting  short  the  years  of  a  novitiate,  of 
which  God,  not  man,  can  designate  the  appropriate  term. 

Yet  enough  may  be  disclosed  to  produce,  on  human 
conduct,  a  most  salutar}-  influence,  and  to  cheer  the 
darkest  days  of  our  pilgrimage  here  by  the  confident 
assurance  that  not  an  aspiration  after  good  that  fades^ 


608  man's  choice  becomes  his  judge. 

nor  a  dream  of  the  beautiful  that  vanishes,  during  the 
earth-phase  of  life,  but  will  find  noble  field  and  fair 
realization  when  the  pilgrim  has  cast  off  his  burden 
and  reached  his  journey's  end. 

Meanwhile,  what  motive  to  exertion  in  self-culture 
can  be  proposed  to  man  more  powerful  than  the  assu- 
rance, that  not  an  effort  to  train  our  hearts  or  store  our 
minds  made  here,  in  time,  but  has  its  result  and  its  re- 
ward, hereafter,  in  eternity  ?  We  are  the  architects  of 
our  own  destiny :  we  inflict  our  own  punishments;  we 
select  our  own  rewards.  Our  righteousness  is  a  meed 
to  be  patiently  earned,  not  miraculously  bestowed  or 
mysteriously  imputed.  Our  wickedness,  too,  and  the 
inherent  doom  it  entails,  are  self  imposed.  We  choose: 
and  our  Choice  assumes  place  as  inexorable  judge.  It 
ascends  the  tribunal,  and  passes  sentence  upon  us;  and 
its  jurisdiction  is  not  limited  to  earth.  The  operation 
of  its  decrees,  whether  penal  or  beneficient,  extends  as 
surely  to  another  phase  of  existence  as  to  this.  When 
death  calls,  he  neither  deprives  us  of  the  virtues,  nor 
relieves  us  of  the  vices,  of  which  he  finds  us  possessed. 
Both  must  go  with  us.  Those  qualities,  moral,  social, 
intellectual,  which  may  have  distinguished  us  in  this 
world  will  be  ours  also  in  another,  there  constituting 
our  identity  and  determining  our  position.  And  as  the 
good,  so  the  evil.  That  dark  vestment  of  sin  with  which, 
in  a  man's  progress  through  life,  he  may  have  become 
gradually  endued,  will  cling  to  him,  close  as  the  tunic 
of  Nessus,  through  the  death-change.  He,  too,  still  re- 
mains the  being  he  was.  He  retains  his  evil  identity 
and  decides  his  degraded  rank.  He  awakes  amid  the 
torment  of  the  same  base  thoughts  and  brutal  passions 
that  controlled  him  here,  and  that  will  attract  to  him, 
in  the  associates  of  his  new  life,  thoughts  as  base  and  pas- 
sions as  brutal.  Is  there  in  the  anticipation  of  a  material 
Hell,  begirt  with  flames,  stronger  influence  to  deter  from 


PNEUMATOLOGY   OF   THE    BIBLE.  509 

vice,  than  in  the  terrible  looming  up  of  an  inevitable 
fate  like  that  ? 

Inevitable,  but  not  eternal.  While  there  is  life,  there 
is  hope ;  and  there  is  life  beyond  the  vail. 

But  I  should  be  commencing  another  volume,  instead 
of  terminating  the  present,  were  I  to  enlarge  on  the 
benefits  that  may  accrue  from  spiritual  agency.  The 
task  I  set  to  myself  was  to  treat  of  an  antecedent  in- 
quiry; an  inquiry  into  the  reality,  not  into  the  advan- 
tages, of  ultramundane  intervention.  With  a  single 
additional  observation,  then,  touching  the  bearings  of 
that  inquiry  on  the  credence  of  the  Christian  world,  I 
here  close  my  task. 

It  is  not  possible  to  rise  from  the  perusal  of  the  Scrip- 
tures, Old  or  New,  without  feeling  that  the  verity  of 
communication  with  the  Invisible  World  is  the  ground- 
work of  all  we  have  read.  This  is  not  a  matter  left  to 
inference  or  construction, — nothing  like  a  case  of  chrono- 
logical or  narrational  variance,  which  commentators  may 
reconcile  or  philologists  may  explain  away.  It  is  a 
question  essential,  inherent,  fundamental.  Admit  much 
to  be  allegory,  make  allowance  for  the  phraseology  of 
Oriental  tongues,  for  the  language  of  parable  and  the 
license  of  poetry,  there  yet  remains,  vast,  calm,  and  not 
to  be  mistaken,  the  firm  faith  of  that  Old  World  in  the 
reality,  and  the  occasional  influence  directly  exerted,  of 
the  world  of  spirits.  That  faith  undermined,  the  found- 
ations are  sapped  of  the  entire  Biblical  superstructure. 

I  speak  of  a  great  fact  declared,  not  of  minute  details 
supplied.  The  pneumatology  of  the  Bible  is  general, 
not  specific,  in  its  character.  It  enters  not  upon  the 
mode,  or  the  conditions,  under  which  the  denizens  of 
another  sphere  may  become  agents  to  modify  the  cha- 
racter or  influence  the  destiny  of  mankind.  It  leaves 
man  to  find  his  way  along  that  interesting  path  by  the 

43* 


51U  MORE    LIGHT    HEREAFTER. 

light  of  analogy, — ^perhaps  by  the  aid  of  such  disclosures 
as  this  work  records.  The  light  may  be  imperfect,  the 
disclosures  insufficient  to  appease  an  eager  curiosity. 
In  the  dimness  of  the  present,  our  longings  for  enlight- 
enment may  never  attain  satisfaction.  We  may  be 
destined  to  wait.  That  which  human  wit  and  industry 
cannot  compass  in  this  twilight  world,  may  be  a  discovery 
postponed  only  till  we  are  admitted,  beyond  the  boundary, 
into  the  morning  sunshine  of  another. 


ADDENDA 

TO  THE  TENTH  THOUSAND. 


81NCK  the  preceding  volume  was  published,  doubts  have  arisen  ai 
io  the  accuracy  of  one  of  the  narratives  originally  published,  and, 
in  consequence,  (see  footnote  on  page  845,)  I  have  now  omitted  it, 
substituting  another  in  its  place. 

On  the  other  hand,  I  have  been  fortunate  in  obtaining  for  two 
narratives  additional  vouchers,  which  have  been  inserted  in  the  Eng- 
lish reprint  of  this  work,  recently  issued.  The  narratives  which 
have  been  thus  corroborated  are  the  *♦  Wynyard  Apparition,"  (page 
381,)  and  "Gaspar,"  (page  461.) 

In  regard  to  the  former,  it  happens,  singularly  enough,  after  the 
lapse  of  seventy-five  years,  that  an  original  document  has  recently 
come  to  light  in  an  article  published  in  that  useful  London  periodical, 
** Notes  and  Queries." 

The  article  in  question  contains  a  certified  copy  of  a  letter  written, 
thirty-eight  years  after  the  date  of  the  incident,  by  one  who  may  be 
said  to  have  been  an  actor  in  the  scene. 

From  this  letter  we  learn  that,  soon  after  the  figure  had  appeared 
to  Sherbroke  and  Wynyard,  and  while  these  two  oflBcers  were  en- 
gaged, in  the  inner  room,  seeking  some  explanation  of  this  intru- 
sion, a  brother  ofl&cer.  Lieutenant  Ralph  Gore,  coming  in,  joined  in 
the  search.  At  his  suggestion,  also,  next  day,  Sherbroke  made  a 
memorandum  of  the  date. 

From  this  letter  we  also  learn  the  exact  locality  where  the  inci- 
dent occurred, — namely,  at  Sydney,  in  the  island  of  Cape  Breton,  off 
Nova  Scotia,  and  in  a  room  in  the  new  barracks  which  had  been 
erected  there  in  the  summer  of  1784, — and  that  the  regiment  to 
which  these  officers  belonged  was  the  thirty-third,  at  that  time  com- 
manded by  Lieutenant-Colonel  Yorke. 

By  the  article  referred  to,  it  further  appears  that  the  Lieutenant 
Gore  above  mentioned  had  in  the  year  1823  attained  the  grade  of 
lieutenant-colonel,  and  was  then  stationed  in  garrison  at  Quebec. 
On  the  3d  of  October  of  that  year,  a  discussion  in  regard  to  the 
Wynyard  apparition  having  arisen  during  a  party  then  assembled 

511 


612  ADDENDA. 

at  the  house  of  the  late  Chief-Justice  Sevrell,  who  resided  on  the 
esplanade  in  Quebec,  Sir  John  Harvey,  Adjutant-General  of  the 
forces  in  Canada,  despatched  in  writing  to  Colonel  Gore  certain  que- 
ries on  the  subject.  That  officer  replied,  also  in  writing,  on  the 
same  day ;  and  his  statements  corroborate  all  the  particulars  above 
given,  so  far  as  he  is  concerned.  He  adds  that  *'  letters  from  Eng- 
land brought  the  account  of  John  Wynyard's  death  on  the  very 
night  his  brother  and  Sherbroke  saw  the  apparition."  The  ques- 
tions addressed  to  Colonel  Gore,  and  his  replies,  in  full,  are  given  in 
*'  Notes  and  Queries,"  for  July  2,  1859,  No.  183,  p.  14.  The  colonel 
is  there  betrayed  into  a  trifling  inaccuracy  in  speaking  of  Lieutenant 
Wynyard,  in  1785,  as  captain.  The  Army  Register  for  that  year 
shows  that  Sherbroke  then  held  the  grade  of  captain,  but  Wynyard 
that  of  lieutenant  only. 

In  regard  to  the  second  narrative,  entitled  **Gaspar,"  which,  it 
will  be  recollected,  was  narrated  by  Mr.  S.  C.  Hall,  as  obtained  by 
him  in  Worcester,  England,  from  the  mouth  of  one  of  the  principal 
witnesses,  the  supplementary  testimony  was  obtained  in  this  wise: — 

The  narrative  was  copied,  in  June,  1860,  into  the  columns  of 
the  "Worcester  Herald;"  and  that  paper,  in  reproducing  it,  ex- 
pressed the  opinion  that  it  was  a  hoax  played  off  by  Mr.  Hall  on 
myself.  A  few  days  afterward,  however,  the  editor,  with  commend- 
able frankness,  retracted  that  opinion  in  these  words: — **We  owe 
Mr.  Hall  an  apology.  The  banker  at  whose  house  the  parties  met 
in  Worcester — to  wit,  Mr.  Hall  and  the  lady  who  related  her  expe- 
riences of  Gaspar,  the  familiar  spirit — assures  us  that  Mr.  Hall  has 
given  the  story  most  faithfully  and  exactly  as  she  told  it ;  and  that 
the  accessories — the  account  of  the  lady's  character  and  bearing, 
the  impression  created  on  the  mind  by  her  truthful  manner  and 
apparent  earnestness  of  conviction — are  also  most  faithfully  ren- 
dered. We  trust  Mr.  Carter  Hall  will  excuse  us  for  suspecting  him 
of  playing  on  a  friend's  credulity.  We  know  of  no  man  more  gifted 
in  the  grand  and  peculiar  art  of  Defoe,  of  imparting  to  fiction  the 
reality  of  fact." 

I  esteem  myself  fortunate  in  thus  obtaining  an  additional  voucher 
for  one  of  the  most  extraordinary  narratives  in  this  volume. 


APPENDIX. 


NOTE  A. 

CIRCULAR  OF  A  SOCIETY,  INSTITUTED  BY  MEMBERS  OP 
THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CAMBRIDGE,  ENGLAND,  FOR  THE 
PURPOSE  OF  INVESTIGATING  PHENOMENA  POPULARLY 
CALLED  SUPERNATURAL. 

The  interest  and  importance  of  a  serious  and  earnest  inquiry  into 
the  nature  of  the  phenomena  which  are  vaguely  called  *'  supernatural" 
will  scarcely  be  questioned.  Many  persons  believe  that  all  such 
apparently  mysterious  occurrences  are  due  either  to  purely  natural 
causes,  or  to  delusions  of  the  mind  or  senses,  or  to  willful  deception. 
But  there  are  many  others  who  believe  it  possible  that  the  beings  of 
the  unseen  world  may  manifest  themselves  to  us  in  extraordinary 
ways,  and  also  are  unable  otherwise  to  explain  many  facts,  the  evi- 
dence for  which  cannot  be  impeached.  Both  parties  have  obviously  a 
common  interest  in  wishing  cases  of  supposed  "supernatural"  agency 
to  be  thoroughly  sifted.  If  the  belief  of  the  latter  class  should  be 
ultimately  coniSrmed,  the  limits  which  human  knowledge  respecting 
the  spirit-world  has  hitherto  reached  might  be  ascertained  with  some 
degree  of  accuracy.  But  in  any  case,  even  if  it  should  appear  that 
morbid  or  irregular  workings  of  the  mind  or  senses  will  satisfactorily 
account  for  every  such  marvel,  still,  some  progress  would  be  made 
toward  ascertaining  the  laws  which  regulate  our  being,  and  thus 
adding  to  our  scanty  knowledge  of  an  obscure  but  important  province 
3H  618 


514  APPENDIX. 

of  science  The  main  impediment  to  investigations  of  this  kind  is  the 
difficulty  of  obtaining  a  sufficient  number  of  clear  and  well-attested 
oases.  Many  of  the  stories  current  in  tradition,  or  scattered  up  and 
down  in  books,  may  be  exactly  true ;  others  must  be  purely  fictitious ; 
others,  again, — ^probably  the  greater  number, — consist  of  a  mixture  of 
truth  and  falsehood.  But  it  is  idle  to  examine  the  significance  of  an 
alleged  fact  of  this  nature  until  the  trustworthiness,  and  also  the  ex- 
tent, of  the  evidence  for  it  are  ascertained.  Impressed  with  this 
conviction,  some  members  of  the  University  of  Cambridge  are  anxious, 
if  possible,  to  form  an  extensive  collection  of  authenticated  cases  of 
supposed  "supernatural"  agency.  When  the  inquiry  is  once  com- 
menced, it  will  evidently  be  needful  to  seek  for  information  beyond 
the  limits  of  their  own  immediate  circle.  From  all  those,  then,  who 
may  be  inclined  to  aid  them,  they  request  written  communications, 
with  full  details  of  persons,  times,  and  places ;  but  it  will  not  be  re- 
quired that  names  should  be  inserted  without  special  permission, 
unless  they  have  already  become  public  property :  it  is,  however 
indispensable  that  the  person  making  any  communication  should  be 
acquainted  with  the  names,  and  should  pledge  himself  for  the  truth 
of  the  narrative  from  his  own  knowledge  or  conviction. 

The  first  object,  then,  will  be  the  accumulation  of  an  available  body 
of  facts :  the  use  to  be  made  of  them  must  be  a  subject  for  future 
consideration ;  but,  in  any  case,  the  mere  collection  of  trustworthy 
information  will  be  of  value.  And  it  is  manifest  that  great  help  in 
the  inquiry  may  be  derived  from  accounts  of  circumstances  which 
have  been  at  any  time  considered  "  supernatural,"  and  afterward  proved 
to  be  due  to  delusions  of  the  mind  or  senses,  or  to  natural  causes ; 
(such,  for  instance,  as  the  operation  of  those  strange  and  subtle  forces 
which  have  been  discovered  and  imperfectly  investigated  in  recent 
times ;)  and,  in  fact,  generally,  from  any  particulars  which  may  throw 
light  indirectly,  by  analogy  or  otherwise,  on  the  subjects  with  which 
the  present  investigation  is  more  expressly  concerned. 

The  following  temporary  classification  of  the  phenomena  abouft 
which  information  is  sought  may  serve  to  show  the  extent  and  cha- 
racter of  the  inquiry  proposed. 


APPENDIX  611 

t     ippearances  of  angels. 
(1.)  Good. 
(2.)  EviL 

n    fipectral  appearances  of 

(1.)  The  beholder  himself,  {e.g.  "Fetohet"  or. "Doubles.'*) 
(2.)  Other  men,  recognized  or  not. 

(i.)  Before  their  death,  {e.g.  "Second-Si^t.") 
(a.)  To  one  person. 
(6.)  To  several  persons, 
(ii.)  At  the  moment  of  their  death. 
(a.)  To  one  person. 
{b.)  To  several  persons. 

1.  In  the  same  place. 

2.  In  several  places. 

i.  Simultaneously, 
ii.  Successively. 
(iii.)  After  their  death.     In  connection  with 
(a.)  Particular  places,  remarkable  for 

1.  Good  deeds. 

2.  Evil  deeds. 

(i.)  Particular  times,   {e.g.  on  the  anniversary  of 

any  event,  or  at  fixed  seasons. ) 
(c.)  Particular  events,  {e.g.  before  calamity  ordeath.) 
{d.)  Particular  persons,  {e.g.  haunted  murderers.) 


in.  "  Shapes"  falling  under  neither  of  the  former  ola 
(1.)  Recurrent.     In  connection  with 

(i.)  Particular  families,  {e.g.  the  "Banshee.") 
(ii.)  Particular  places,  {e.g.  the  "Mawth  Dog.") 
(2.)  Occasional. 

(i.)  Visions  signifying  events,  past,  present,  or  future. 
{a.)  By  actual  representation,  (e.^  "Second-Sight**) 
{b.)  By  symbol, 
(ii.)  Visions  of  a  fantastical  nature 

IV.  Dreams  remarkable  for  coincidences 
(1.)  In  their  occurrence. 

(i.)  To  the  same  person  several  times, 
(ii.)  In  the  same  form  to  several  persons. 
(a.)  Simultaneously, 
(6,)  Successively, 


;16  APPENDIX 

(2.)  With  facts 
(i.)  Past. 

(a.)  Previously  unknown.. 
(b.)  Formerly  known,  but  forgotten, 
(ii.)  Present,  but  unknown, 
(ill.)  Future. 

V.  Feelings.    A  definite  consciousness  of  a  fact 

(1.)  Past, — an  impression  that  an  event  has  happened. 

(2.)  Present, — sympathy  with  a  person  suffering  or  acting  at  a 

distance. 
(3.)  Future, — presentiment 

VI.  Physical  effects. 

(1.)  Sounds, 

(i. )  With  the  use  of  ordinary  means,  (e.p.  ringing  of  bells. ) 
(ii.)  Without  the  use  of  any  apparent  means,  {e.ff.  voices.) 
(2.)  Impressions  of  touch,  [e.ff.  breathings  on  the  person.) 

Every  narrative  of  "  supernatural"  agency  which  may  be  communi- 
cated will  be  rendered  far  more  instructive  if  accompanied  by  any 
particulars  as  to  the  observer's  natural  temperament,  (e.ff.  sanguine, 
nervous,  &c.,)  constitution,  [e.ff.  subject  to  fever,  somnambulism,  &o.,) 
And  state  at  the  time,  [e.ff.  excited  in  mind  or  body,  &c. ) 

Communications  may  be  addressed  to 

ReT.  B.  F.  Westoott,  HarroWf  Middlesex, 


(Postscript.) 
NOTE  B. 

TESTIMONY: 

VIEW  TAKEN   Of   IT   BY   TWO   OPPOSING   SCHOOLS. 

Since  the  foregoing  pages  were  in  type,  I  have  received,  and  perused 
with  much  pleasure,  a  pamphlet,  just  published  in  London  and  Edin- 
burgh, entitled  ''Testimony:  its  Posture  in  the  Scientific  World,"  by 
RoBE&T  Chambers,  F.R.S.E.,  F.A.S.,  &c.,  being  the  first  of  a  series 
of  "  Edinburgh  papers,"  to  be  issued  by  that  vigorous  thinker, — a 
man  who  has  contributed  as  much,  perhaps,  as  any  other  now  living, 
to  the  dissemination  of  useful  information  among  the  masses  through- 
out the  civilized  world.  Not  the  least  valuable  contribution  is  this 
very  pamphlet. 

Mr.  Chambers  reviews  the  posture  of  two  schools  of  philosophy  in 
regard  to  the  force  of  testimony ;  the  physicists,  of  whom  Mr.  Faraday 
is  the  type ;  and  the  mental  and  moral  philosophers,  represented  by 
Abercrombie  and  Chalmers. 

The  first,  he  reminds  us,  taking  into  view  "  the  extreme  fallacious- 
ness of  the  human  senses,"  will  admit  no  evidence  of  any  extraordi- 
nary natural  fact  which  is  not  "absolutely  incapable  of  being  ex- 
plained away."  If  the  physicist  can  presume  any  error  in  the  state- 
ment, he  is  bound  to  reject  it.  "Practically,"  (Chambers  adds,) 
"  all  such  facts  are  rejected ;  for  there  is,  of  course,  no  extraordinary 
fact  resting  upon  testimony  alone,  of  which  it  is  not  possible  to  pre- 
some  some  error  in  the  observation  or  reporting,  if  we  set  about 
finding  one."    (p.  2.) 

Thus,  Mr.  Faraday,  '*  defending  the  skepticism  of  his  class,"  argues 
that  '*  there  is  no  trusting  our  senses,  unless  the  judgment  has  been 
largely  cultivated  for  their  guidance."  He  speaks  as  if  there  were  a 
bare  possibility  that  a  man  not  regularly  trained  to  scientific  obser- 
vation should  see  facts  truly  at  all. 

a  "7 


518  APPENDIX. 

Not  30  Abercrombie  or  Chalmers.  The  great  Scottish  theologiau 
** professes  to  walk  by  the  Baconian  philosophy.  He  acknowledges 
that  knowledge  can  only  be  founded  on  observation,  and  that  we 
learn  •  by  descending  to  the  sober  work  of  seeing  and  feeling  and  ex- 
perimenting.' He  prefers  what  has  been  'seen  by  one  pair  of  eyes' 
to  all  reasoning  and  guessing.  .  .  .  He  does  not  propose  that  we 
only  receive  the  marvelous  facts  of  Scripture  if  we  cannot  explain 
them  away.  ...  He  does  not  ask  us  to  start  with  a  clear  under- 
standing of  what  is  possible  or  impossible.  .  .  .  What  he  requires  of 
us  *  on  entering  into  any  department  of  inquiry,'  as  the  best  prepara- 
tion, is  a  very  different  thing:  namely,  ^that  docility  of  mind  which  is 
founded  on  a  sense  of  our  total  ignorance  of  the  subject.*  "* 

"  No  contrast,"  Chambers  continues,  "  could  well  be  more  complete. 
In  the  one  case,  testimony  regarding  assumedly  natural,  though 
novel,  facts  and  occurrences,  is  treated  with  a  rigor  which  would  enable 
us  to  battle  off  any  thing  whatever  that  we  did  not  wish  to  receive,  if  it 
could  not  be  readily  subjected  to  experiment,  or  immediately  shown 
in  a  fresh  instance, — and  perhaps  even  then.  In  the  other,  the  power 
and  inclination  of  men  to  observe  correctly  any  palpable  fact,  and 
report  it  truly,  is  asserted  without  exception  or  reserve.  ...  It 
is  plain  that  one  or  other  of  these  two  views  of  testimony  must  be 
wholly,  or  in  a  great  degree,  erroneous,  as  they  are  quite  at  issue 
with  each  other.  It  becomes  of  importance,  both  with  a  regard  to 
our  progress  in  philosophy  and  our  code  of  religious  beliefs,  to  ascer- 
tain which  it  is  that  involves  the  greatest  amount  of  truth."  (p.  6.) 

As  to  the  effect,  in  every-day  life,  of  adopting  the  scientific  view 
of  testimony,  he  says,  "Just  suppose,  for  a  moment,  that  every  fact 
reported  to  us  by  others  were  viewed  in  the  light  of  the  skeptical  sys- 
tem, as  to  the  fallaciousness  of  the  senses  and  the  tendency  to  self- 
deception.  Should  we  not  from  that  moment  be  at  a  stand-still  in 
all  the  principal  movements  of  our  lives  ?  Could  a  banker  ever  dis- 
count a  bill  ?  Could  a  merchant  believe  in  a  market-report  ?  Could 
the  politician  put  any  trust  in  the  genealogy  of  the  monarch  ?  Could 
■we  rest  with  assurance  upon  any  legal  deed  or  document  heretofore 
thought  essential  to  the  maintenance  of  property  ?  Could  evidence 
for  the  condemnation  of  the  most  audacious  and  dangerous  criminal 
be  obtained?  Each  geologist  distrusting  his  neighbor  as  to  the 
actuality  of  the  find  of  fossils  in  certain  strata,  what  would  be  the 
progress  of  that  science  ?     Could  we,  with  any  face,  ask  the  young 

*  Pamphlet  cited,  p.  6.    The  Italics,  throughout,  are  as  Chambers  ha-^  'ihem. 


APPENDIX.  61ft 

to  believe  in  a  single  fact  of  history,  or  geography,  or  any  science 
concerned  in  education  ?  What  could  be  more  seriously  inconvenient 
to  mortals,  short  of  the  withdrawal  of  the  sun  from  the  firmament, 
than  the  abstraction  of  this  simple  principle  from  the  apparatus  of 
social  life,  that  we  can  all  tolerably  well  apprehend  the  nature  of  an 
event  or  fact  presented  to  our  senses,  and  give  a  fair  representation 
of  it  in  words  afterward  ? 

'♦  I  must  alsc  make  bold  to  say  that  the  skeptical  view  appears  to 
me  out  of  hare  :ny  with  the  inductive  philosophy.  Bacon  gives  us 
many  warnings  vgainst  preconceived  opinions  and  prejudices  ;  but  he 
does  not  bid  us  iespair  of  ascertaining  facts  from  our  own  senses  and 
from  testimony.  He  laments  that  there  is  an  impediment  in  the  ac- 
quisition of  knowledge  from  the  sense  of  sight  being  unable  to  pene- 
trate '  the  spiritual  operation  in  tangible  bodies  ;'*  but  he  nowhere 
tells  us  that  sight  is  so  fallacious  that  we  require  a  corrective  power 
to  assure  us  that  we  have  really  seen  any  thing."  (p.  8.) 

Adverting  to  Faraday's  axiom,  that  we  must  set  out  with  clear  ideas 
of  the  possible  and  impossible,  Chambers  shrewdly  remarks,  "This 
skeptical  method  consists  very  much  in  vicious  circles.  You  cannov 
know  whether  a  fact  be  a  fact  till  you  have  ascertained  the  laws  of 
nature  in  the  case ;  and  you  cannot  know  the  laws  of  nature  till  you 
have  ascertained  facts.  You  must  not  profess  to  have  learned  any 
thing  till  you  have  ascertained  if  it  be  possible ;  and  this  you  cannot 
ascertain  till  you  have  learned  everything."  (p.  9.) 

The  whole  pamphlet  is  singularly  logical,  as  well  as  practical  in 
tendency,  and  will  well  repay  a  perusal.  Unable,  for  lack  of  space, 
much  further  to  extend  my  extracts  from  it,  I  must  not  omit  to  quote 
entire  the  concluding  paragraph,  strictly  bearing,  as  it  does,  on  the 
respect  which  should  be  shown,  and  the  credit  which  may  properly  be 
accorded,  to  those  classes  of  facts  which  it  is  the  object  of  this  work 
to  place  before  the  public.     Chambers  says, 

•'  If  I  have  here  given  a  true  view  of  human  testimony,  it  will  follow 
chat,  among  the  vast  multitude  of  alleged  things  often  heard  of  and 
habitually  rejected,  there  are  many  entitled  to  more  respect  than  they 
ordinarily  receive.  It  is  a  strange  thought,  but  possibly  some  truths 
may  have  been  knocking  at  the  door  of  human  faith  for  thousands  of 
years,  and  are  not  destined  to  be  taken  in  for  many  yet  to  come, — or,  at 
the  utmost,  may  long  receive  but  an  unhonoring  sanction  from  the  vulgar 
and  obscure,  all  ov  Ing  to  thisprinciple  of  skepticism,  that  facts  are  value- 


Novum  Organum,  Book  I.  aphorism  60. 


520  APPENDIX. 

loss  without  an  obvious  relation  to  ascertained  law.  Should  the  con- 
trary and  (as  I  think)  more  inductive  principle  be  ever  adopted,  that 
facts  rightly  testified  to  are  worthy  of  a  hearing,  with  a  view  to  the 
ascertaining  of  some  law  under  which  they  may  be  classed,  a  liberal 
retrospect  along  the  history  of  knowledge  will  probably  show  to  us 
that  even  among  what  have  been  considered  as  the  superstitions  of 
mankind  there  are  some  valuable  realities.  Wherever  there  is  a 
perseverance  and  uniformity  of  report  on  almost  any  subject,  however 
heterodox  it  may  have  appeared,  there  may  we  look  with  some  hope- 
fulness that  a  principle  or  law  will  be  found,  if  duly  sought  for. 
There  is  a  whole  class  of  alleged  phenomena,  of  a  mystically  psychical 
character,  mixing  with  the  chronicles  of  false  religions  and  of  hagio- 
logy,  in  which  it  seems  not  unlikely  that  we  might  discover  some 
golden  grains.  Perhaps,  nay,  probably,  some  mystic  law,  centering 
deep  in  our  nature,  and  touching  far-distant  spheres  of  *  untried 
being,'  runs  through  these  undefined  phenomena, — which,  if  it  ever 
be  ascertained,  will  throw  not  a  little  light  upon  the  past  beliefs  and 
actions  of  mankind, — perhaps  add  to  our  assurance  that  there  is  an 
immaterial  and  immortal  part  within  us,  and  a  world  of  relation 
beyond  that  now  pressing  upon  our  senses."* 

*  Pamphlet  cited,  p.  81 


INDEX. 


Abercrombib,  on  aniimited  skeptieism,  64;  on  a  singular  dream  ,3}  on 
importance  of  the  subject  of  dreaming,  209 :  narratives  att  .-I  by. 
141,  159,  180,  181,  184,  204. 

Abrant^s,  Ducbesse  de,  her  voucher  for  Mademoiselle  Clairon's  ^   cj,  442. 

Action  of  mind  on  matter,  66. 

Actress,  French,  what  she  suffered,  434. 

Addison,  his  opinion  as  to  apparitions,  31. 

Aerolites  formerly  disbelieved,  93. 

Affections  and  thoughts,  their  apparent  influence  on  the  spiritual  *  Aj,  8^5. 

Ahrensburg,  Cemetery  of,  260. 

Alibi  proved  under  extraordinary  circumstances,  326. 

Analogy  indicates  character  of  our  future  life,  500. 

Animal  Magnetism,  22. 

Animals,  effect  of  spiritual  agency  upon,  217,  231,  398,  446,  448. 

Antiquary,  the,  and  the  Cardinal,  their  objections  answered,  365. 

Apparition  at  the  moment  of  death,  369,  372,  375,  381,  409. 

Apparition  at  sea,  331  ',  another,  333;  its  practical  result,  337. 

Apparition  in  India,  367. 

Apparition  in  Ireland,  319. 

Apparition  of  a  stranger,  385. 

Apparition  of  the  living  witnessed  by  twelve  persons  at  once,  34£ 

Apparitions  of  two  living  persons,  321. 

Apparitions  of  two  living  persons  seen  by  themselves,  346. 

Apparition  of  the  living  seen  by  mother  and  daughter,  327. 

Apparition  seen  by  two  persons  independently,  375,  376,  381,  399     39,  416. 

Apparition  vouched  for  by  senses  of  hearing  and  touch,  459. 

Apparitions  and  aerolites,  360. 

Apparitions,  reality  of,  not  a  question  to  be  settled  by  closet  theorists  859. 

Appearance,  gradual,  and  disappearance  of  an  apparition,  385. 

Arago,  on  Somnambulism,  23. 

Aristotle,  his  opinion  on  dreams,  138. 

Arrears  of  teind,  the,  165. 

Ai-hburner,  Dr.,  his  narrative,  367. 

Aspirations,  the  highest,  are  prophetic,  497. 

Atheist,  an,  his  theory  as  to  an  apparition,  369. 

Automatic  writing,  spontaneous  example  of,  469. 

Babbage,  his  calculating  machine,  illustration  from,  77 
Bailly,  his  Report  on  Animal  Magnetism,  23. 
Baldarroch,  the  farm-house  of,  255. 
B^doUiere,  M.  de  la,  how  he  obtained  his  wife,  146. 
Beecher,  Rev.  Charles,  inclines  to  Demonology,  39. 

44«  Ml 


522  INDEX, 

Belief  and  knowledge,  56. 

Bell  and  Stephenson.     Foreshadowing  in  dream,  202. 
Berzelius,  his  last  farewell  to  science,  493. 
Bible,  dreams  in  the,  208 ;  Pneumatology  of  the,  509. 
Bichat's  division  of  the  animal  functions,  121. 

Biological   experiments,   how   far  they  aflfect  the   doctrine  of  hallucina- 
tion, 310. 
Bishop,  a,  interests  himself  on  the  subject  of  apparitions,  34. 
Blackstone,  on  the  supernatural,  30. 
Bbhme,  Jacob,  his  mysticism,  21. 

Braid,  some  of  his  experiments  attested  by  Dr.  Carpenter,  28. 
Brain  representing  its  action  at  a  distance?  196. 
Brodie,  Sir  B.,  on  the  human  brain,  133. 
Brother,  the,  his  appearance  to  his  sister,  371. 
Butler,  Bishop,  his  view  of  miracles,  90. 
Byron,  Lord,  his  opinion  on  apparitions,  31. 

Cabanis  saw  bearings  of  political  events  in  dream,  125. 

Calmeil,  Dr.,  his  opinion  of  the  Jansenist  miracles,  87. 

Calphurnia,  her  dream,  150. 

Carpenter,  Dr.,  on  Animal  Magnetism,  24. 

Catholic  Church,  its  doctrine  of  possession,  40. 

Cerebral  battery,  how  it  may  be  charged,  135. 

Chair,  with  lady  on  it,  raised  without  contact,  112. 

Chambers,  Robert,  his  pamphlet  on  the  posture  of  testimony  in  the  scientific 
world.  Appendix,  Note  B.,  517. 

Character  but  slightly  changed  after  death,  403,477. 

Character  of  man,  how  it  is  formed,  483. 

Chemistry  formerly  regarded  as  unlawful,  46. 

Children,  the  apparitions  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.,  416. 

Children  of  this  world  and  children  of  light,  496. 

Child's  bones  found,  39  I,  396. 

Cideville  parsonage,  the  disturbances  there,  272. 

Circulation  of  the  blood  held  to  be  impossible  forty-four  years  after  its  dis- 
covery, 93. 

Circumstances  connecting  an  apparition  with  the  external  world,  388,  394, 
414,  422. 

Clairon,  Mademoiselle  Claire-JosSphe,  her  story,  434. 

Clarke,  Dr.,  his  opinion  of  the  Wesley  disturbances,  237. 

Clay,  Alderman,  his  dream,  and  the  custom  thence  resulting,  162. 

Clergy,  on  them  especially  devolves  duty  of  examination  and  exposure  of 
any  spiritual  delusion,  45. 

Coincidence,  remarkable,  as  to  stains  of  blood,  407. 

Coincident  impressions  of  two  cousins,  332. 

Coleridge's  cataleptic  suggestion,  239. 

Columbus  at  Barcelona,  60. 

Condorcet  made  complicated  calculations  in  dream,  125. 

Consolation,  unexpected,  459. 

Contempt  corrects  not,  35 ;  before  inquiry,  fatal,  316. 

Counterpart,  the,  appears  where  the  thoughts  or  affections  are,  356. 

Credulousness  of  incredulity,  258. 

Cuvier  on  Animal  Magnetism,  68. 

Dangers  of  the  subject  best  averted  by  inquiry,  49. 
Darwin's  theory,  as  to  suspension  of  volition,  129,  130. 
Day  of  Judgment,  varying  ideas  concerning,  481. 
Dead  body,  the,  and  boat-cloak,  366. 
Dead,  the,  entreating  prayer  and  instruction,  396. 


INDEX.  52<J 

Dead,  the,  whence  can  they  return  ?  428,  477. 

Death  a  herald,  not  a  destroyer,  489 ;  the  agency  whereby  life  dianges  itf 
phase,  503. 

Death  cnused  by  a  dream,  139. 

Death  destroys  neither  the  life  nor  the  identity  of  man,  478;  is  not  the  op- 
posite of  life,  503. 

Debt  of  three-and-tenpence,  402. 

De  Foe's  hypothesis,  29,  428,  477. 

Demoniac  Manifestations,  40. 

Discrimination  of  modern  science,  87. 

Disturbances  in  the  county  of  Wilts,  England,  in  1661,  216. 

Disturbances  in  the  Wesley  family,  in  1716,  224. 

Disturbances  in  Upper  Silesia,  in  1806,  242. 

Disturbances  in  Northern  Wurtemberg,  in  1825,  250. 

Disturbances  in  Aberdeenshire,  Scotland,  in  1838,  255. 

Disturbances  in  the  island  of  Oesei,  in  1844,  260. 

Disturbances  in  the  north  of  France,  in  1850,  272. 

Disturbances  in  Western  New  York,  in  1848,  284. 

Disturbances  in  a  cemetery,  260. 

Disturbances  running  through  four  years,  259. 

Disturbances  often  assume  a  character  of  levity,  211. 

Disturbances,  evidence  of,  summed  up,  300. 

Dog,  the  Newfoundland,  472. 

Doom,  is  there  a  final,  at  death  ?  482. 

Dream  fulfilling  itself,  145. 

Dream  involving  a  double  coincidence,  158,  159. 

Dream  indicating  a  distant  death,  154. 

Dream,  life  saved  by  a,  151,  204. 

Dream,  one,  the  counterpart  of  another,  182. 

Dreams,  are  all  untrustworthy  ?  138,  209. 

Dreams,  can  they  embody  requitals?  433. 

Dreams  may  be  induced  by  slight  causes,  140. 

Dreams  may  be  intentionally  suggested,  142. 

Dreams,  opinions  of  the  ancients  on,  137. 

Dreams,  synchronous,  432. 

Duty  of  research,  45. 

Dying  mother,  the,  and  her  babe,  342. 

Effects  of  rejecting  the  doctrine  of  Hades,  485. 

Electricity,  animal,  discoveries  in,  66. 

Epidemical  hallucinations,  do  they  exist?  314. 

Epidemics,  mental,  of  Europe,  103. 

Error  of  two  phases,  83. 

Evidence,  suggestion  as  to  rules  of  legal,  324. 

Evidences  of  thought,  intention,  foresight,  must  be  referred  to  •  thinker,  mi 

intender,  a  foreseer,  504. 
Expectant  attention  not  the  origin  of  Spiritual  phenomena,  345,  417,  425. 

Faraday,  95;  on  Table-moving,  111;  on  Spiritual  agency,  113;  on  Elec- 
tricity, 133. 
Felkesheim,  Count  de,  his  story,  390. 
Field-mice,  the  two,  178. 
Fish,  eyeless,  in  Mammoth  Cave,  41. 
Fishing-party,  the,  151. 
Fourteenth  of  November,  409. 

Fox  family,  powers  of  second-sight  among  their  ancestors  and  relativM^  284 
Fox.  Kate,  24.  288. 


^24  INDEX. 

Irranklin  aided  by  dreams,  126. 
FaUer,  Margaret,  her  opir  on  of  Swedenborg,  21. 
Funeral,  a  distant,  seen  in  dream,  178. 
Furies,  the  ancient,  431  j  not  implacable,  432. 

Caspar,  461. 

Gasparin,  Comte  de,  on  Spiritualism,  38. 

Georget,  Dr.,  converted  by  Somnambulism,  63. 

German  divine,  his  story,  459. 

*'  Ghost  Club,"  at  the  University  of  Cambridge,  England,  33,  and  Appen- 
dix, Note  A.,  513. 

Ghost-stories  of  the  Radeliflfe  school,  no  proof  of,  211. 

Giant  of  the  Brocken,  308. 

Glanvil  narrative,  the,  214;  his  personal  deposition,  218. 

Gloucester,  Bishop  of,  his  story,  148. 

Goethe's  grandfather,  his  alleged  gift  of  prophecy,  197. 

GoflFe,  Mary,  her  dream,  187. 

Golding,  Mrs.,  and  her  maid,  241. 

Gregory,  Dr.,  aided  proftssionally  in  dream,  126. 

Grose,  Mr.,  his  flippant  objections,  364. 

Guardianship,  apparent  examples  of,  452,  453,  457,  459,  461,  467. 

Guldenstubbe,  Baron  de,  his  history  of  the  appearance  and  disappearance 
of  an  apparition,  385. 

Guldenstubb6,  Mademoiselle  de,  her  narrative  of  disturbances,  260. 

Hades,  29,  400,  429,  484,  497. 

Hades,  doctrine  of  primitive  Christianity  regarding,  479. 

Hades  of  the  Greeks,  480. 

Hall,  Mr.  S.  C,  his  story,  461. 

Hall,  Mrs.  S.  C,  her  story,  445. 

Hallucination,  108,  303;  examples  of,  306;  was  this?  330. 

Hallucination  not  insanity,  307. 

Hallucination,  no  examples  of  collective,  309,  313. 

Hallucination  and  illusion,  difference  between,  308. 

Hare,  Dr.,  his  error,  39. 

Hasty  generalization  imprudent,  350. 

Haunted  houses,  100;  ancient  examples,  212. 

Hiiuntings,  disturbances  so  called,  210. 

Heaven,  usual  conception  of,  does  not  satisfy  the  hearts  of  men,  491. 

llell,  an  inevitable,  but  not  begirt  with  flames,  508. 

Help  amid  the  snow-drifts,  457. 

Herschel,  Sir  John,  on  possible  chemical  combinations,  64. 

Holland,  Sir  Henry,  on  the  nervous  and  vascular  systems,  134. 

Home  on  the  other  side,  27,  502. 

How  a  French  editor  obtained  his  wife,  146. 

How  Senator  Linn's  life  was  saved,  453. 

Howitt,  William,  on  Spiritualism,  36  ;  his  dream,  170;  hia  story,  871. 

Howitt,  Mary,  her  dream,  171. 

Hume,  his  argument  as  to  miracles,  71,  on  the  Marvellous,  98. 

Hydesville,  disturbances  in,  284. 

Hypnotism,  128. 

Ideal,  voice  of  the,  26,  498. 

Identity,  question  of,  487;  how,  and  when  lost,  488. 

Ulusiou,  difference  between  it  and  hallucination,  308. 


INDEX.  525 

Imagination,  effects  of,  805. 

Impartiality,  no  man  a  judge  of  his  own,  49. 

Imponderables,  modern  progress  in  the  study  of,  66,  67. 

Impossible,  what  we  may  properly  declare  to  be,  63. 

Indian  mutiny  foreshadowed,  201. 

Inquiry  entertained  in  this  volume,  a  practical  one,  18. 

Instincts,  human,  too  little  studied,  494. 

Invisible  and  inaudible  world,  the,  506. 

Jansenists,  alleged  miracles  among  the,  85,  86. 
Johnson,  Dr.,  his  opinion  on  apparitions,  30. 

Kepler's  bargain  with  Martin  Korky,  48. 

Kerner's  Seeress  of  Prevorst,  251. 

Korky,  Martin,  his  presumptuous  skepticism,  48. 

Laplace  on  the  evidence  of  sense,  115. 
Law-suit,  the.     Disturbances  in  Edinburgh,  253. 
Laws  may  be  change-bearing,  80 ;  such  laws  rare,  82. 
Lee,  Sir  Charles,  death  of  his  daughter,  148. 
Legal  investigation  of  disturbances  in  France,  273. 
Life  saved  by  a  dream,  151. 
Linn,  Senator,  how  his  life  was  saved,  453. 
Looking  on  one's  own  body,  351. 
Lorenzo  the  Magnificent  and  the  Improvisatore,  363, 
Louise.     Apparition  seen  by  two  persons  independently,  376. 
Luther  sweeps   out  Hades,  479 ;    causes  Gehenna  and  Hades  to  be  both 
translated  Hell,  480. 

Mackay,  the  credulousness  of  his  incredulity,  258. 
Mncnish,  bis  dream  verified,  155. 

Man  cannot  sympathize  with  that  for  which  he  is  not  prepared,  490. 
Man  remains  human  after  death?  500. 
Man's  choice  becomes  his  judge,  508. 

Man'ii  nature  and  his  situation  present  an  apparent  anomaly,  495. 
Marvel  of  marvels,  the,  62. 
Marvelous,  love  of,  misleads,  98. 

Master-influence,  that  will  exist  in  another  world?  501. 
Me<lical  admissions  in  regard  to  Animal  Magnetism,  24. 
Medicine,  effect  of,  on  perceptions,  313. 
Miracle,  definition  of,  72,  74. 
Miracles,  modern,  rejected,  70. 
Miracles  of  the  New  Testament,  91. 

Mirville,  Marquis  de,  his  pneumatology,  39;  his  evidence,  277,  283. 
Mischief  of  over-credulity,  4.3. 
Modesty  enlists  credence,  105. 
Monks  of  Chantilly,  their  ingenuity,  101. 

Montg6ron,  Carr6   de,   his   extraordinary  work   on   the  JanMnist  mira- 
cles, 86. 
More  light  hereafter,  510. 

Mother  and  son.     Synchronous  impressions,  184. 
Mother's  longing,  the,  187. 
Murder  near  Wadebridge,  seen  in  dream,  173. 
Murdered,  the  alleged,  reappears,  298. 
Mysteries,  Qod  protects  his  own,  58. 


526  INDEX. 

Negio  s'irvant,  the.     Murder  foreshadowed  in  dream,  204. 
Nervous  roservoir,  how  supplied,  132. 
New  Ilavensack  disturbances,  240. 

Nicolai,  his  memoir  on  hallucinations  of  which  he  was  the  subject,  307,  308. 
Nobleman,  the,  and  his  servant,  376. 
Norway,  Edmund,  his  remarkable  dream,  173. 

Number  and  variety  of  virtues  here  indicate  number  and  vaoriety  of  aToo»> 
tions  hereafter,  492. 

Oberlin,  his  belief  as  to  apparitions,  360. 

Officer,  English,  what  he  suflFered,  445. 

Official  investigation  of  disturbances,  265. 

Old  Kent  Manor-Ilouse,  the,  414. 

One  success  not  disproved  by  twenty  failures,  106. 

Origin  of  Modern  Spiritualism,  288. 

Outlines  only  of  a  future  life  may  perhaps  be  discovered,  507. 

Past  events,  though  forgotten,  may  be  recalled  in  dream,  143. 

Peer,  son  of  a,  leading  member  of  the  "  Ghost  Club,"  34. 

Perception,  exceptional  cases  of,  312. 

Percival,  his  death  seen  in  dream,  181. 

Perquin's  observation  as  to  dreaming,  120. 

Perrier,  Mademoiselle,  subject  of  an  alleged  miracle,  83. 

Persecution,  apparently  by  spiritual  agency,  434. 

Phenomena,  how  they  are  hushed  up,  18,  344. 

Phenomena  independent  of  opinions,  25. 

Plymouth  Club,  the,  191. 

Pneumatology  of  the  Bible,  general,  not  specific,  509. 

Polygamy,  can  any  authority  sanction  it?  42. 

Port  Royal,  alleged  miracle  at,  83. 

Porter,  Anna  Maria,  her  visitor,  365. 

Postulates,  two,  involved  in  the  hypothesis  that  departed  spirits  occasionally 

return,  47f<;  these  postulates  rational,  484. 
Prescience  in  dreams,  197,  199,  201,  202,  204. 

Press,  the  indications  of  change  of  tone,  as  to  the  supernatural,  48 
Priestley,  Dr.,  his  opinion  of  the  Wesley  disturbances,  238. 
Proofs  of  ultramundane  agency  spread  all  over  society,  507. 
Punishment,  future,  speculation  regarding,  395,  450,  508. 
Punishment,  to  be  effectual,  must  speedily  follow  the  offense,  485. 
Purgatory,  Hades  swept  out  along  with  it,  479. 

Racine  vouches  for  a  Jansenist  miracle,  83. 

Rational  opinions  may  be  irrationally  defended.     Example  of  this,  35. 

Reichenbach's  experiments,  67,  311. 

Reid  on  the  evidence  of  the  senses,  114. 

Religious  researches  involve  more  risk  than  secular,  48. 

Representation  of  cerebral  action?  195. 

Rescue,  the.     Apparition  of  the  living  at  sea,  333. 

Responding  of  unexplained  sounds,  first  example,  217. 

Retina,  image  on  the,  during  hallucination  ?  304. 

Retribution,  apparent  examples  of,  432,  445. 

Reward  and  punishment,  effect  of  removing  to  a  distance  the  ezpeotatioii 

of  these,  486. 
Right  and  duty  to  prove  all  things,  spirits  included,  41. 
Rochester  Knock  ings,  284. 

Rogers,  B.  C,  his  theory  of  cerebral  action  represented,  195. 
Rogers  the  poet,  his  logic,  94. 


INDEX.  62* 

Roman  Ritaal,  doctrine  of,  40. 
Romance,  etymology  of  the  word,  496. 
Romano,  Signor,  his  story,  153. 
Romantic  incident,  misleading  eflFect  of,  160. 

Sadducism,  whither  it  may  lead,  28,  302. 

Science,  regrets  of  a  man  of,  at  death,  493. 

Scott,  Sir  Walter,  his  story,  165. 

Scripture  proofs  of  the  soul's  immortality  do  not  convince  all,  50. 

Second-Sight,  109;  in  the  Fox  family,  284. 

Seeress  of  Prevorst,  disturbances  in  her  house,  250;  apparition  to,  396. 

Sense,  the  strongest  evidence,  55. 

Senses  of  hearing  and  touch  vouch  for  an  apparition,  459. 

Senses  of  sight  and  touch  discredited,  114. 

Sentiment  linked  to  action,  26. 

Sepulture,  rites  of,  paid  to  what?  503. 

Sheol  of  the  Jews,  480. 

Sherbroke,  Sir  John,  apparition  to,  381. 

Shipwreck  foretold  in  dream,  157. 

Si>;ht  and  sound.     Apparition  of  the  living,  326. 

Sisters,  the  two,  345. 

Skeptic,  confession  of  a,  52. 

Skepticism  among  the  educated  classes.  50,  51. 

Skepticism,  curious  specimen  of,  114. 

Skeptics,  often  unwillingly  so,  62. 

Slawensik,  the  Castle  of,  242. 

Sleep,  its  marvels,  117;  is  it  ever  dreamless?  119 

Sleep,  various  phases  of  it  have  much  in  common,  124» 

Sleeping  powers  may  exceed  the  waking,  126. 

Smellie  and  Greenlaw,  their  compact,  143. 

Soul,  does  it  ever  sleep?  121. 

Soul,  what  becomes  of  it  immediately  after  death,  480. 

Southey,  his  opinion  of  the  Wesley  disturbances,  238. 

Spaniard,  his  inference,  a  type  of  modern  logic,  106. 

Speech,  habitual,  of  an  apparition,  464. 

Spiritual  agency  not  miraculous,  88. 

Spiritual  body,  30,  358. 

Spiritual  body  seems  to  show  itself  where  its  affections  are,  187,  319,  Z4X 

.372,  375,  378,  381,  409. 
Spiritual  guardianship,  is  it  an  unholy  or  incredible  hypothesis?  475. 
Spiritualii^m,  modern,  an  influential  element,  36. 
Spiritualism,  modern,  origin  of,  288. 
Spontaneous  phenomena  of  a  spiritual  charaoter,  how  snail  we  dispoM  i 

them?  46. 
BUins  of  blood,  the,  404. 

Steele,  Sir  Richard,  his  opinion  on  apparitions,  31. 
Stilling,  Jung,  his  pneumatology,  20 ;  his  story,  317. 
Stove,  the  iron,  391. 

Strahau,  Rev.  Dr.,  his  opinions  on  apparitions,  359. 
Stratford,  Connecticut,  disturbances  at,  299.  s 

Strauss,  Dr.,  his  argument  against  the  supernatural,  28. 
Subject  of  this  volume,  severe  test  applied  to,  58. 
Suitor,  the  rejected,  467. 
Surgeon's  Assistant,  the,  326. 
Swodenborg,  his  system,  21. 
Sympathy,  destined  to  become  an  element  of  active  organiiation.  Ml. 


.    .?.  INDEX. 

Table-moving,  110,  112. 

Tantum,  Francis,  death  of,  374. 

Taylor,  Isaac,  a  distinguished  pneumatologist,  20,  30,  32,  488,  505. 

Tedworth,  disturbances  at,  214.  ^ 

Teller,  a  Glasgow,  his  dream,  163.  9 

Testimony,  argument  as  to  concurrence  of,  96.  ' 

Testimony,  its  posture  in  the  scientific  world,  remarks  by  Robert  Chamber! 

upon, — Appendix,  Note  B.,  517. 
The  red  dress,  348. 
The  two  sisters,  345. 

The  virtuous  reasonably  desire  another  stage  of  action,  492. 
TilIo:ton,  Dr.,  his  opinions,  55,  90,  110. 
Time  an  essential  element,  19. 
Trapper,  the,  his  story,  457. 
Truth  in  every  rank,  32. 

Truth  to  be  reached  only  by  taking  trouble,  192. 
Truths  that  appeal  to  our  consciousness,  56. 
Twd  lives,  the  conception  of,  489. 
Two  living  persons,  apparitions  of,  they  themselves  being  eye-witnesecs  of, 

346. 

Ultramundane  phenomena,  importance  of,  27,  507. 
Unexpected  consolation,  459. 
Utterings  of  the  presaging  voice,  498. 

Vision,  origin  of  a,  142.  v 

Visionary  excursion,  the,  351. 

Visit  foretold  in  dream,  199. 

Volition,  suspension  of,  essential  part  of  sleep,  130. 

We  are  journeying  toward  a  land  of  love  and  trutl^,  502. 

Wesley  narrative,  disturbances  at  Epworth,  224. 

Wesley,  Emily,  sounds  pursue  her  through  life,  236. 

Westminster  Review,  on  Spiritualism,  38. 

What  a  French  actress  suffered,  434. 

What  an  English  oflScer  suflFered,  445. 

Wife  of  Oberlin,  said  to  have  appeared  to  him,  362;   record  of  this  by 

Oberlin,  359. 
"VVuKins,  Joseph,  dream  of,  184. 
World,  an  inscrutable,  during  sleep,  118. 
World,  this,  never  fully  develops  the  character  of  man,  495. 
Wraith,  as  believed  in  Scotland,  a  superstition,  yet  founded  in  truth,  355. 
Wraxall,  Sir  Nathaniel,  narrative  vouched  for  by  him,  391. 
\">  juyard  apparition,  381 ;  corroborative  testimony  regarding,  383. 


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